Duty, Discord, Devotion
by TashunkeChanteWolf18
Summary: Draco Malfoy has a dark and important task to complete. However, when a girl in his Potions class starts to change his view on life and its duties, he begins to question it. Will he go through with it? HP 6/7 Malfoy's view, with a twist! Read and enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Draco Malfoy, or any Harry Potter Characters. Enjoy my first little fanfic!**

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"Shut up, Mother!" he snapped, as she was reading his O.W.L. reports aloud, "I know what I got, please don't rub it in!"

"Well, Draco, I know you're more capable than this! 'Outstanding' in Potions, of course you always do well in Snape's classes. 'Exceeds Expectations' in Defense Against the Dark Arts, you will have to do better than that. Especially with what we have planned for you."

"I know, Mum, I know," Draco rolled his eyes, but turned away from her when his expression threatened to fail him, and reveal his tiny bit of fear and doubt about what the future held for him.

His mother kept reading off his subjects, and got to the worst that he did, "Charms, 'Dreadful'! Draco Lucius Malfoy, that is unacceptable! When your father returns, he will not be pleased at all."

"Mother! I was the one who took the bloody exams, I know how well or terribly I did. Leave me alone!" He stood up and stormed out. He couldn't wait for the Summer Holiday to be over, he wanted to enact the "plan" he played a big part in. He wanted desperately to avenge his father's wrongful imprisoning, more than that. He hated Harry Potter so much, it was all his fault! Draco went over and over what he had to do, and knew he could do it. The doorbell rang, followed by the growing sound of a near-crazed, high-pitched voice rising up from the front hall of the manor. His mother called to him, and Draco reluctantly went to the top of the banister.

"Draco, dearie! Come say hello to your favorite aunt," the near crazed voice said with a creepy laugh and a smile.

"Good morning, Aunt Bella," he said coldly, nodding to her.

"Cissy, your son's being rude to me, make him stop," Bellatrix whined.

Narcissa Malfoy was in a hurry, and grabbed her sister's hand, "Draco, we're off to do something very important-" Here Bellatrix cut in, "Yeah, so we'll be set if you can't make the cut!"

"Hush, Bella!" Narcissa nearly barked, "Now, Draco, if you're the good son I know you are, you won't have disappeared to drabble with those horrid cronies of yours. Be here when I get back. Clean your room, something!"

"But, Mum! We have servants for that!" Draco complained.

"His O.W.L.'s must have been horrendous for that kind of punishment, eh, Cissy? Now are we off to see Severus?" Bellatrix cackled loud enough for the whole city to hear, Draco thought as he blushed with shame. His scores weren't that bad, he hated how his mother could be so cruel, demanding more of himself than he thought he could give.

They slammed the big front door behind them, and Draco groaned loudly, storming to his room, to brood and conspire about his task for the year. He had all year to do it, and he knew he could pull it off, easily. If only Summer would end, and his sixth year at Hogwarts could begin.


	2. Chapter 2

The Summer did finally end, and with the advent of Fall and the school year starting quite soon, promise of a whole new part of his life, one that he'd been dying to begin. The train ride to Hogwarts proved most productive. He informed his old friends, (or was it only friends?) Crabbe and Goyle of his impending developments, and without disclosing too many details, as he wasn't even sure of them yet himself.

Upon encountering his long-time nemesis, Draco proceeded to curse Harry Potter, and crush his nose as punishment for trying to eavesdrop on him and his "plans" for the year. It was going to be a good sixth year, he could feel it in his bones.

Classes began the next day, and they proved to be daunting. Draco knew he was not that great of a student, but he would do what he had to in order to pass the classes. Even if that constituted of paying some smart kid to do his work, and bribing the professors. His first class of the day was Potions, a class he excelled in, especially when Professor Snape taught it. This year, however, a new professor had come upon the scene, and Draco did not like this new teacher, had a harder time understanding the potions he taught. The first day of class, they were assigned a potion that had ingredients he had never even heard of. He tried to make it, and encountered many setbacks, each of which frustrated him more.

Draco put the wrong amount of wormwood in, couldn't get the juice out of the sopophorus beans, and set the temperature all wrong, causing it to boil over and ruin some of his new parchment, as well as spill onto his robes. "What a terrible potion! Absolute tripe!" he exclaimed, at a loss for why things weren't going his way.

He grabbed his books, his quills, nearly spilled his ink, and stormed out without another word. Before he could reach the door, Draco tripped on someone's robe, and nearly fell, catching himself on the table closest to the door. He glared up, daring whoever tripped him to make a move.

"Potter, if you ever tr-" his snarl was cut off as he met the gaze of a worried-looking girl, whose expression slightly questioned his sanity. Instead of Potter's green eyes he met dark brown, and instead of a mess of black hair, a neatly styled almost-black ponytail ran over her shoulder. He was instantly apologetic, but in the same instant crossly wondered why in the world a girl would be so utterly clumsy. Draco's expression clouded, and he exited.

He went down the hallway, muttering to himself, "Stupid Elixir of Death, why do we even need to make it? Potions class was my best, **always** my best. Mum will have a fit when she hears about his incompetence. The oaf doesn't even know how to teach! If I didn't know why Snape needs to stay in Defense Against the Dark Arts, why I'd…"

"Malfoy!" a voice called from behind him. He hadn't even noticed that classes had ended for that period, and people were swarming all around him.

"Hey, Malfoy!" the voice called again. This time, Draco slowed down and looked around him for the source of the voice. _Since when did Crabbe and Goyle's voices become so high pitched? _he thought to himself, chuckling at the jeering they would soon endure.

His embarrassment instantly returned, as well as the anger and pride at the reminder of his brief almost-fall. Approaching Draco was the very girl who had just tripped him not ten minutes ago. Whether it was done intentionally or not, he didn't care. He saw her as merely an annoyance, and his face clouded again as she stopped to stand before him.

"What do you want?" he spoke coldly, wrinkling his nose a bit in disgust.

"You're Malfoy, right?" she asked, a slight smile on her face, almost amused. When he nodded, she continued, "When you left in such a hurry back there, you dropped this. Thought you might need it." She held his wand out to him, and without a thought, Draco grabbed it out of her hand.

"It's about time, I had thought you had stolen it from me. Everyone in that blasted class is out to get me, I swear. It's absolute rubbish," Draco looked his wand over, expecting some evidence that it had been tampered with.

The girl glanced at him, smiling slightly, "Yeah, well, see you next class, Malfoy." She turned, and, flipping her ponytail, and started to walk off, mocking his haughty attitude.

Draco was outraged at her flippancy at his distress, but let it slide this one time. _It's just a stupid girl, who tried to steal my wand, how dare she!_ His incoherent mutterings recommenced, but he was interrupted when he bumped into someone. He looked up angrily, but reconsidered his reaction as the figure he had run into was very crucial to his well-being. Ruffling the powerful feathers of this individual could ruin his entire future. He wore long black robe, the pin of Slytherin on his collar, his manner commanding respect at all costs.

"Hello, Professor Snape," Draco addressed him, still as confident as before.

"You're looking a bit…flustered today, young Malfoy," Snape noted, motioning to the jumble of parchment and books in his arms.

"Oh, this? It's nothing—a filthy Mudblood merely thought it would be amusing to shove me into a moving staircase, is all. I definitely showed him, and I'll have him expelled yet, just you watch." Draco smirked proudly.

"Mind your temper, young master, it will only hurt you and your purpose if you let it go astray." Snape advised, and, grabbing his wrist gently, added, "You haven't had it done yet, have you? Not official yet? Better get a move on, you need to prove yourself. I won't do everything for you, boy."

Draco pulled his arm free, and assured him, "Don't worry, I'll get there. He simply hasn't found the right time yet, and I will surely show Him that I am more than ready, Professor."

Snape narrowed his eyes at the cocky 16-year-old boy before him. Would the boy be able to complete the duty given to him out of most high regard and confidence? Or would Snape himself have to step in and do it for him, a sort of rescue? Only time would tell. The professor left the boy to go to his next class, ignoring the doubt resting at the back of his educated mind. He need not worry, it would all go according to plan.


	3. Chapter 3

It was lunchtime, and the Slytherin table was abuzz with budding rumors and drama that comes with the start of a new year, new classes, and new experiences. Two such individuals just so happened to be discussing the most recent topic of gossip, an almost taboo subject at that, especially for them.

"I heard he fell flat on his face!" Goyle sniggered, silencing as he saw Malfoy approaching.

Unfortunately, Crabbe didn't catch on, "I'll bet he did! And all his things went flying!" he laughed. A hard smack across the back of his head shut him up, and Draco glared at him.

"What are you two idiots blabbering about now? You wouldn't happen to be talking about me, would you? I know wouldn't do that to me, Crabbe, after all my parents have done to make sure you and Goyle get into this school year after year?" His eyes narrowed, issuing an unspoken threat, and Crabbe quickly shook his head, along with Goyle.

"That's better." Draco clipped. "You know, I just can't believe my new Potions professor, his method of teaching makes learning nearly impossible. But besides that blasted class, I'm doing exceptionally well. Wouldn't you agree?" he asked, flashing them a glance that suggested answering otherwise would result in harsh reprimand.

They both nodded, and Crabbe sheepishly asked, "Malfoy? About your first class of Potions this term… people are talking. Saying things."

"Things? What kind of things?" Draco demanded, and after exchanging a worried look, Goyle was the first to add something.

"Well," he swallowed, "they've been saying that on that first day, some common girl made a fool of the great Draco Malfoy." He instantly added, "Which is impossible, no one would dare make a fool of you. Anyone who tried to do that would be sorry. We'd see to that."

Draco didn't reply at first. His expression was pensive, measuring how to best respond to this blatant questioning of his honor. When his response was less than what the two oafs were expecting, Crabbe dared to ask, "Did that really happen, Draco?"

Sheepishly, almost, he muttered, "I was outraged at the impossible potion we were expected to 'attempt', so I left, and on my way out, I tripped over someone's robe. I didn't care if she tried to or not, so I yelled at her and left." He sighed, crumpling a napkin in his hand as a wave of angry embarrassment swept over him, and added, "But if anyone thinks that stupid little stunt could ever make a fool of me, they're absolute imbeciles, and need to be taught as such. Understand?" He glared at the two and they instantly agreed with him.

Draco finished his food in near silence, as Crabbe and Goyle went around the Slytherin tables, as well as the other House tables, ensuring that possible rumors about Draco were more than forgotten. Draco's thoughts drifted to what Snape had warned him about the other day, causing him to absent-mindedly push his left sleeve up to his elbow, and study his pale wrist and forearm. His heart rate sped up, the excitement of the impending changes in his life building in him.

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Upon the ending of the first couple of weeks, the students were swamped with beginning of the year homework and projects, including Draco. He usually tolerated working on his studies with his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, as he had done for years past. He had discovered, however, that his more rigorous schoolwork and all the internal unrest that came with the anticipation of the impending changes in his life drove him to seek solitude to organize his thoughts and to do his work.

He had just received a letter by owl, a rather formal looking letter, with a seal he knew all too well from all the dealings of his parents with Dark Wizards. This letter was addressed to him, Draco Lucius Malfoy, from someone very important in his new life-to-be. He had yet to read it, and only in the quiet and solitude of the Room of Requirement, did he dare to open it. He read it with great care and eagerness. Here is what it read:

_Dear young Master Malfoy,_

_We are pleased to inform you that, in lieu of your past actions concerning one Vanishing Cabinet, and evident loyalty to His Excellency, as well as your incidental relatedness to one of the Dark Lord's current followers, Master Lucius Malfoy, the Dark Lord himself has decided to add you to his following, his army, and make a Death Eater of you. Do not think of it as merely a replacement of your incarcerated father, think of it as following in your parents' footsteps, rather, an insurance of safety for your family, at this most opportune time. The Dark Lord has found you worthy of this great honor, and in agreeing to make this change and swearing complete allegiance to the Dark Lord, you must undergo an essential rite of passage. The pain of it is nothing compared to what your family will endure if your task is not completed successfully, young Malfoy. Keep that in mind as the Dark Lord is allowing you this great privilege, with his highest confidence in your ability. Do not, under penalty of unfathomable forms of torture, abuse this privilege. Especially when it comes to the task bestowed upon you late this summer. You will be given further details of when and where your membership shall be finalized._

_Until then, Fenrir Greyback and Amycus Carrow_

Draco shuddered at the sight of the names of the Death Eaters, specifically that of Fenrir. Of all the Death Eaters, Fenrir Greyback frightened Draco the most, despite his affronts at showing nonchalance in his presence. He pulled his sleeve up, and glanced once again at his wrist. On it was a preliminary Mark, drawn on only by semi-permanent ink, to give the needed effect of persuasion in Borgin and Burke's shop back in Knockturn Alley, but without any real power or true significance.

He returned to the library, rejoining Crabbe and Goyle at their normal spot, and got back to working as well as he could with his mind racing, considering the contents of the letter. As much as he tried, he couldn't focus, and got the letter out again. He commenced to read the letter over and over, not hearing the approaching footsteps behind him.

"What'cha got there, Malfoy?" a curious voice cut through his concentration.

At the sound of the voice, Draco practically sprang out of his seat, stowing the letter where no one could see it. He turned around, and was face to face with _that_ girl, the dark-haired one who tripped him, and he glared at her, "What are you doing, going around scaring people like that, who knows what I could've done out of self-defense. You're lucky my wand is in my bag."

She laughed slightly, "You're a bit of a jumpy fellow, aren't you, Malfoy?" She paused, and when he didn't defend himself right away, she continued, "I just came over to ask if you'd started on the Transfiguration assignment yet? I could use-"

"What? Transfiguration? You aren't in that class."

"Yes I am, I sit a few rows behind you. You don't like McGonagall very much, do you? And what about Potions? We have that class again tomorrow, you know."

"Of course I've started and finished all that, what gave you any idea that I hadn't…"

When she glanced over his shoulder at the scroll of blank parchment at his place, she raised an eyebrow curiously, an inquisitive smile playing at the corners of her mouth. His flustered manner was entertaining her more than she cared to reveal.

Draco frowned, "Why am I talking to you, anyway? I don't have time for you, silly girl." He stuck his nose up, and walked away pointedly. Crabbe and Goyle instinctively grabbed Draco's things, and followed him like two little dogs.

"Who does that girl think she is, anyway? Coming up and talking to me like we were chums, the nerve!" Draco spoke, irritated. "As if a powerful, influential person such as myself would ever waste precious time humoring her."

"Maybe she had a question about the homework?" Goyle offered, and a cold stare from Draco shut him up. They returned to the Slytherin dormitory, and as Draco demanded that they leave him alone, he couldn't help but think, _Am I ready for this to really begin? Or am I getting in too deep?_ He straightened his tie, and pushed all doubting thoughts away as he sat down to his untouched Transfiguration homework. Draco had a long night ahead of him.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Blast!" Draco muttered under his breath. He was five minutes late for his lesson, and he knew how much his tutor hated when he wasn't punctual. It had been a rough day. He had smashed his hand in the Vanishing Cabinet he had been spending time trying to fix, which was a big part of the Dark Lord's plan. It was a slow, hard process, but he was making good progress.

He made sure he hadn't been followed, and went into the Shrieking Shack, hearing a shrill voice, "Draco, is that you? You're late!"

"Yeah, it's me, Aunt Bellatrix, don't have a fit."

He raced up the stairs and found his aunt waiting on him, arms crossed, a look of reproach on her face, "It's about time! I told you not to be late. If you're late again, you won't be able to learn Occlumency as well as the Dark Lord commands. I only have so much time, stupid boy."

He sat down in his normal chair, and Bellatrix Lestrange took out her wand in one graceful sweep, and whispered, "Legilmens!", testing his mind's strength with her advanced Legilimency. During her efforts at penetrating the deepest recesses of his mind, she was intrigued by what she found. Fear, hesitation at his task, followed by immense confidence backed by the entire Malfoy bloodline. Then there was a softness, a weakness that started to surface. From there, however, she found she was blocked, his mind became protected by his increasing Occlumency abilities.

"Still having a bit of trouble, I see, Draco, but you're getting there. Let's have another go, boy!" Right as she was about to give him another bout of mind invasion, the door to the room was slammed open. This broke both Draco's and Bellatrix's concentration, and they were startled by the figure in a hooded cloak standing in the doorway.

"Bella, it's time. He's on his way." Snape's commanding voice beckoned them, and Bellatrix suddenly got quite excited.

"Ooh! Draco, sweetheart, your time has come!" she laughed a bit, a devious smile on her face. She grabbed his arm, and led him outside, where the three of them disapparated, reapparating in a thick forest far from the jurisdiction of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Bellatrix let go of Draco, ran her hands through her crazy hair, only worsening the effect, smoothed out her jet-black dress, and put a sweet, deranged smile on her face. Draco rolled his eyes, he was very confused by how devoted and fond his strange aunt was of the Dark Lord.

They heard a crack, and, there before them, were three figures. Draco recognized Fenrir Greyback and Antonin Dolohov, both Death Eaters who were to be witnesses to Draco's initiation. In the middle stood the Dark Lord himself, Lord Voldemort. He was cloaked, so his face wasn't visible. Draco was usually able to rein in his visible hesitance and fear among the Death Eaters, but in the presence of Lord Voldemort, it took a lot more effort to appear calm and confident.

A harsh whisper came from the hooded figure, "Bring me the boy."

Snape came up behind Draco, and pushed him forward. Draco walked, slowly, towards the daunting form of the Dark Lord, and stopped a few feet in front of him.

"How is he doing in his duties, Severus?" Voldemort inquired, coolly.

Snape answered calmly, "He is getting much better at Dark Magic, and the Vanishing Cabinet is coming along well. Nearly working order, my Lord."

"And his Occlumency, my dear Bellatrix?" He held his hand toward her.

She gushed, "Improving at a most desired rate, but he has a way to go, to reach the level you require, my Liege."

"Good. I would agree with you all, he is ready to become a Death Eater. A most respected station at my side, young Malfoy. You should feel proud, my boy." Voldemort brought out his wand, and held his other hand palm-up. "Come, Draco. Give me your arm."

Draco held out his left forearm, and Voldemort took it, and held it secure in his cold hand. He pulled up his sleeve, and watched as the semi-permanent Mark disappeared from his forearm. Voldemort raised his wand, and muttered an incantation, as a design began to take form on his outstretched arm.

First he could feel it, the prickling, sharp poking of many invisible needles into his arm. The skull began to take shape, its empty eyes staring into oblivion. It lacked a lower jaw, and from its recesses, one could begin to see the outline of a writhing snake, seemingly emerging from the skull and being wrapped around it at the same time. The details of the snake were filled in- the entwined coils, the lines and shadows of the underbelly and the back, the dark spots down its body, the sloping neck, and finally the sinister eye and gaping jaw, its fangs bared threateningly.

Draco had shut his eyes at the pain of the invisible needles, and near the end of the painful process did he dare look upon his wrist. What he saw amazed him. He couldn't believe that he'd actually been made a Death Eater. When the Mark was finished, Voldemort broke his focus, and gazed upon his newly initiated follower.

He smirked, "Perfect." As he released Draco's hand, he continued, "Prove that you are ready. Cast the Dark Mark high into the sky, for all to see!"

Draco was instilled with confidence and pride, and he pointed his wand into the air, and muttered the incantation. A bright spark shot into the sky, erupting into a huge shape of a skull and a slithering snake, baring its fangs and announcing the terror that Death Eaters and the Dark Lord himself would bring. Bellatrix uttered a crazy little laugh of delight at the familiar Mark and all the fun it foretold for her and fellow Death Eaters.

Voldemort looked to the two Death Eaters he had brought with them for their approval, however unnecessary, before officially declaring Draco a Death Eater. A pleased nod from Dolohov and Greyback to the Dark Lord's inquiring gestures caused him to whisper, "Congratulations, Draco Malfoy, you are now a Death Eater. Use this new status to serve me and my purpose for the rest of your life, young master." He turned to dismiss the boy and his teachers, but looked over his shoulder, and his eyes flashed a menacing warning, "Misuse your power, and you'll pay an immeasurable price, my boy. Don't fail me." And with a loud crack, he was gone.

"Congratulations, boy," Snape hissed, and, cutting off Bellatrix as she was about to curse at him for barely making the cut, continued, "We had best be on our way back. Your charm on the Shrieking Shack will soon wear off, and that Mark will arouse suspicion with the Muggles."

"Muggles? Why did we do this in a place with filthy Muggles?" Bellatrix asked, her shrill voice piercing the dark quiet of the night.

"Dare you to question your Master's tact, dear Bella?" Snape accused her, "Why, Draco could make use of his brand new Dark Mark to summon him back here for you, you can ask him yourself. Would you like that?"

She instantly became calmer, less loud, "No, I'd never question the Dark Lord. Come on, Draco, we must be going now." She grabbed his arm; careful not to make contact with the new Dark Mark, she was well aware of how painful it could be at first. "Coming, Severus?"

"Go on, Bella, I'm right behind you." He waved them away, and the boy and his aunt Disapparated without another word.

Snape sighed, pointed his wand in the air, and proceeded to dissipate the Dark Mark. Once it had dissolved into mostly unidentifiable shapes in the already overcast night sky, he took a deep breath, and Disapparated back to the front gates of Hogwarts castle.

Back at Hogwarts, Draco inquired of his tutor to end his Occlumency lesson for that night. His arm was hurting him more than he cared to admit.

"Why would I want to stop? We're only halfway done! I mean, the Dark Lord has a deadline, Draco, dearie! Wouldn't want to upset him now, would we?" She trilled, her higher-than-usual voice giving Draco a headache.

He stood, and retorted, "No, we wouldn't, but at least don't go as hard for a bit, my Mark is distracting me. It hurts, and I can't focus!" Draco was inches from her face, almost yelling at her.

"Aww, is baby Draco in a bit of pain?" She faked sympathy, "Well, if you're already hurting, you're going to hate what's to come! You might not be fit to be a Death Eater, after all. What a pity!" she stuck her nose up.

"I am more than fit!" he snapped, "I am going to be a great Death Eater, and easily complete the task that I was chosen for! Now, get on with it."

She giggled, "As you wish!" she hit him with a tough Legilimens round, which, despite the pain of the Dark Mark, Draco was able to resist. The lesson ended soon, though, and Bellatrix Lestrange disappeared into the night without being traced.

As Draco Malfoy walked back to the castle, to the back entrance so as to get around Filch, he couldn't help but notice the newfound weight he felt on his left arm, where the Dark Mark was branded into his skin. He tried to ignore it, but this was only the start of the increasing amount of pressure and stress he would have to endure, as his new life began as a veritable Death Eater.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A month into classes, Draco was still not doing well in Potions. One bright October morning, he was on his way to this despised class, ranting and raving to a Crabbe and Goyle about Professor McGonagall's obvious disdain for him. Little did he know, this day in class would serve to be one that he especially detested.

"I told you, Crabbe, that boorish woman purposely grades me harder than the rest of the class as though I don't' know what I'm doing. She obviously rigs the lessons so that I can't do them as well. I'll bet I could find a jinx on my wand that _she _put there."

"You're probably right, mate," Crabbe nodded, and Goyle spoke next, "Did you do all your Potions, Malfoy? Slughorn's getting more picky about that, from what I hear."

"Honestly, I can't understand why I have to continue with this worthless class!" Draco rolled his eyes, "Yeah, I did it, no matter how pointless it was. Stupid Slughorn can go choke on poisoned mead, for all I care! Let's just get it over with." They walked into the classroom, found their seats, and Slughorn began lecturing on a new potion they were to complete in groups that day. Malfoy glanced over to Crabbe and Goyle, and they nodded, but Slughorn interrupted their internal planning.

"Now, students, I know we all have our usual groups, but this time, I have taken the liberty of choosing for you. We will be working in groups of two. You must work together to achieve the correct consistency and effect of this potion, which can be quite difficult for witches and wizards of your age." He cleared his throat and continued, "The groups are as follows: Crabbe and Parkinson; Blaise and Goyle…"

Draco cursed under his breath, both of those morons had good partners, but who in the world would he be stuck with?

"…Malfoy and LaRocque; Granger and Weasley; Longbottom and…" Slughorn continued with the list, but Draco was no longer listening. He looked around trying to find his partner, and didn't recognize anyone by that name. Draco sighed, commanded his usual table-mate to get lost, and awaited the arrival of his partner.

No one came, and Draco went up to Slughorn, "Um, Professor, who exactly is my inferior-er, partner? I don't recognize the name, is he in class today?"

Slughorn frowned, looking about the room, then his face cleared, "Ah! There she is, just finishing up in her gathering of ingredients. See there in the back, my boy?" He pointed, and Draco followed his direction.

His jaw nearly dropped when he saw that familiar half-ponytail, and his face scrunched up at his displeasure. Why did he have to get stuck with her? That stupid girl, who tripped him, humiliating him on the first day of class, was assigned to be his partner? What awful luck.

He walked back to his table, trying to appear fully composed and above all this idiotic misfortune. He straightened out the table, making a workspace, determined to succeed, however much he would hate every step.

She attempted to set down the ingredients, "Could I get some help with these?" she inquired, but he only took a test tube rack from her hands without a word, not helping her load as much as he probably could have. She sighed, set everything up neatly, and turned to Malfoy, "I'm Charlotte, by the way. Charlotte LaRocque. I'm in Ravenclaw house."

"Hmph," was his reply, and to this she rolled her eyes, shaking her head at his haughty manner.

"Don't you want to beat Harry? He always gets the potions done so much quicker, but if we work together, we'll definitely beat him this time. Look, he's not even here yet!" Charlotte was smiling slyly, as she knew this little incentive would definitely get his attention. She had seen the tension between the two, unsure as to why it was there, but unafraid to use it for her advantage, in this instance.

Draco actually looked at her for the first time with a spark of interest, at the suffering of his 'nemesis' and smiled, "What a divine idea. Let's show Potter how incompetent he can be! What's the first step, to this concoction, Miss LaRocque?"

"Well, Malfoy, we take the Mandrake tendrils and slice them, as well as boiling the Unicorn blood extract," she explained, glancing at the directions. She continued, "Hmm, what an odd name! Distillation of Darkness, that sounds dangerous." She raised an eyebrow, and started slicing the tendrils, leaving Malfoy to boil the Unicorn blood extract. They continued putting the ingredients together, following the steps as efficiently as they could, and they were making considerable progress.

As they mixed, Draco wondered aloud, "Why does this potion sound so strangely familiar?"

"Have you made it before? And Draco, don't forget to crush the gingkwort seeds into the Acromantula powder, not the boiled mixture," she said, grabbing his left arm before he made said mistake.

Draco's temper flared for a moment at her touch, but, noticing how much further they were than Harry Potter seemed to be, he calmed, allowed her to guide his arm to the right area, where he successfully crushed the seeds, a smirk on his face at her correction. She smiled sweetly back, and went back to her part of the preparation.

After a matter of twenty minutes, Draco stirred the contents of the potion for the directed 27th time, and Charlotte dropped the last ingredient in, a finely ground infusion of soot and enchanted deadly nightshade, the Distillation of Darkness was completed, and well before the other groups, who were still struggling with the correct heat setting in the 19th step, resulting in some minor overflowing incidents.

Charlotte raised her hand, "Professor? Draco and I are finished with our Distillation of Darkness."

Slughorn walked over to them, and looked it over, taking a spoonful, and blowing on it, which created a smokescreen that shrouded the whole room in momentary darkness.

Slughorn let out a satisfied laugh, and waved his wand, clearing the room of the darkness. "Congratulations, Mr. Malfoy and Miss LaRocque, you have done it! The perfect concoction for any witch or wizard to use in any task of good or foul intentions. This potion, in fact, was made infamous by the actions of many dark wizards in the past."

It suddenly hit Draco with the familiarity. "Of course!" he muttered, and Charlotte glanced at him quizzically, placing a stray hair behind her ear. Her eyes asked him to elaborate, but he dismissed her unspoken request as Slughorn continued his lecture about related potions and concoctions and their uses.

Slughorn dismissed Charlotte and Draco early in lieu of their evident efficacy and success with such a difficult potion, and as the door shut behind them, Charlotte pressed the issue.

"What did you mean by your sudden exclamation 'Of course!' earlier today? Something in class familiar to you?" She cocked her head in curiosity.

Before Draco answered, he thought, but knew this stupid girl wouldn't do anything with this information, "Well, my family used it a lot in their um… line of work, you might say. I helped my parents make it way back in the day, I was fascinated by it, how one spoonful could fill an entire room with darkness."

"What all did your parents do?" she inquired.

He laughed, "My family is in the business of owning many other businesses, and one of them was one of experimental magic and such, learning the effectiveness of spells, potions, and more, so they may be used in most profitable ways."

"All right. Makes sense." She nodded, accepting that, knowing all along that he was a spoiled rich kid.

As they walked, something was pressing on Draco's mind, "How did you know about my hatred for Potter? Are you stalking me? I mean, I understand, I am quite admirable and such, but…"

At this Charlotte laughed, "Well, you did scream his name in my face when you tripped on my bag, as if he would do something like that on purpose, and it's not hard to see. " She continued, "You two must have something like a long-time hate-hate relationship, right?"

"Yes, I suppose we do have a long history of conflicting loyalties and beliefs. Our families never really got along, it's probably an inherited hatred, but…" he stopped, "Why am I telling you this?"

"I'm not sure. I asked, and you told me. I was curious, that's all." She flashed him a friendly smile, and Draco was taken aback by her affable manner. He definitely wasn't used to being talked to so nicely.

Charlotte tried a couple other topics out, and they had a few little exchanges as they went along the empty corridors of the castle. Draco's responses were mostly curt and arrogant, but Charlotte didn't seem put off. If, at times, neither could come up with a suitable subject for a time, Charlotte's soft humming filled the silence of the halls. They reached the moving staircases, and here Charlotte opted to take her leave. Ravenclaw was the opposite direction of Slytherin.

"Well, Malfoy, I'm off to start on my homework for Potions. The work in this class just seems to be never ending! Oh well." She turned back to him, "Care to join me, Draco?"

He started to retort something that would obviously be taken as rude, but, he thought, perhaps, given that she had helped in this single victory over Potter, he resigned to a simple, "No, I would not. I have other things to attend to, thank you."

"Ah, I see. Well, maybe next time." She held out her hand to him, signaling a handshake. Draco frowned for a second, pulled his left sleeve down for the millionth time that day, and held his right hand out to shake hers. "Good working with you today, Master Malfoy. Quite the triumphant victory over Potter today."

She bowed a bit, almost mocking, and Draco replied, a little frosty, "Indeed, very successful. Good work to you too, Miss, um…"

"LaRocque. But you can call me Charlotte," she suddenly leaned in really close to his ear, and whispered, "_Beau jour, garçon d'obscurité_." She grinned mischievously as she turned and went up the stairs to Ravenclaw House.

Draco stood there, utterly at a loss for words. What had just happened? And what did Charlotte just say to him? As he strode to his house dormitory, thoughts of all kinds raced through his head. They mostly pertained to this common thread: _What was this silly girl's deal? _Charlotte LaRocque was, as much as he hated to admit it, a puzzle that he simply had to figure out.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Now Draco Malfoy was not one to be messed with, and what happened between him and Charlotte that October morning on the way back from Potions had his mind going in circles. He didn't know what to think. She had talked with him like they were equals, like she didn't mind his high-and-mighty attitude and way of speaking. It didn't drive her away, like it did most everyone else, those who he deemed less-than-worthy of his time. Why did she take the time to talk to him? All his other schoolmates, aside from Crabbe, Goyle, and maybe two other Slytherins, shunned him for being a stuck-up jerk. He liked it that way, for the most part, but this Charlotte girl wasn't objecting to the fact that he thought himself above her. Above everyone in the school, for that matter.

He saw her again in Transfiguration the next day, and when Professor McGonagall asked for volunteers to try out a new transforming spell on a frog, Charlotte's hand was the first to be called.

"Miss LaRocque, come on up. Now, don't flourish too much, my dear, we only want him to become enough water to fill his container halfway, not an entire ocean," the professor gently advised her.

Charlotte came up to the front of the class, pointed her wand at the good-sized bullfrog, and spoke clearly, "Heket Shea." The frog jumped and transformed, only water filling the tank halfway. Professor McGonagall congratulated her.

One by one, students in the class were given tanks with frogs in them, and tried out the spell. There were varying degrees of success, from no change at all, to an explosive cascade out of poor Seamus Finnegan's tank, dousing him in water. Draco watched the others, and took note of errors as well as successes. He took a deep breath, and sighed. He concentrated, and muttered, "Heket Shea!" the frog attempted to leap out of its container, and when it landed, it became a pool of water.

He smiled triumphantly, and Professor McGonagall praised his efforts, "Well done, Malfoy! A near perfect execution of this ancient spell. You're improving considerably."

Draco subconsciously looked over to where Charlotte was sitting, and her nod of approval and kind smile set his proud heart at ease. He wasn't sure why he had just looked to her for approval, but he shrugged and went over to brag to Crabbe and Goyle, giving them false pointers, sabotaging their attempts. He laughed as their frogs merely sweated a bit, or dried out.

* * *

A few days later, Draco, regardless of his hatred for the Mudbloods of the wizarding world, decided to consult someone who he truly loathed for answers about the mysterious Charlotte LaRocque.

"Hey, Granger!" he called to her in the Great Hall one morning.

When she turned, she crossed her arms and frowned, "What do you want, Malfoy? The answers to the upcoming Charms quiz? Or to throw more demeaning slurs at me?"

"We have a Charms quiz coming up?" he asked, confused, and when Hermione rolled her eyes, he continued, "No, I don't have time for that, as fun as it sounds. I have a few questions for you."

"All right, fine." She sat on a bench, and patted the open area next to her. "What is it?"

Draco sighed, sat down, and asked, "Do you know any French?"

"I'm familiar with the basic language. Why?"

"Well, what does the phrase," he searched his memory and tried to remember the exact words, "the phrase 'beau jour, garçon d'obscurité', mean?"

Hermione thought for a moment, translating, and replied, "Good day, boy of darkness, I believe. Where did you ever read a phrase like that? Certainly not in one of our textbooks!"

"I didn't read it, silly girl! I heard it. Someone… said it, and I'm not sure what it means." He tried not to sound too strained, too defensive.

"Someone said that? Did they say it to you?"

"And if someone did? What would that matter?" He glared at her.

Hermione put her hand to her mouth, trying to hold back a laugh.

Draco noted this, and scrunched up his nose, "Shut up! Don't laugh at me! I didn't ask to be spoken to like that. Which brings me to my next inquiry… Would you stop snickering!"

"Sorry," she took a breath, and calmed down. "Go on, Malfoy."

"Do you know someone named Charlotte La-something?" he tried to seem nonchalant about it.

Hermione nodded, "Charlotte LaRocque? Yeah, she's a friend of mine. What do you…" Then it struck her, "Is Charlotte the one who said that to you?"

Draco nodded slightly, "Yes, she is. Is she French or something? And is she new? Why don't I recognize her from past years?"

"She's not French. She just spent a year or two in France in her childhood, and she's fluent. And of course she's not new! She's been in Ravenclaw all this time, and I know for a fact you don't hardly care about any houses but Gryffindor and your own. So it's not surprising you haven't met her."

"Hmm, well, thank you, Granger. I really must be off." He stood to go.

"Why are you so curious about her? And did she really say that to you? Or are you planning to make a fool of her in the near future? She doesn't deserve that, you know," Hermione tried to get more info from him, but he dismissed her, starting to walk away.

He turned back, however, and spoke warningly, "Tell anybody that we had this chat, or about which we spoke of, and you'll be sorry."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, but nodded.

Draco found a seat at the Slytheirn table, alone, so he could think in peace. He filed his and Hermione's conversation away for later consideration, and got back to the task at hand. He got out a piece of parchment, which stated the properties of Vanishing Cabinets. He perused the information, and was puzzled by one part. The lock had some sort of charm on it he wasn't familiar with. He was getting very far on his repairs, but he just had a few minor adjustments, this charm being one of them.

It was written in a very crude script, and he couldn't decipher it. _Perhaps Miss LaRocque could figure it out…?_ a tiny piece of his subconscious mumbled, in a mocking tone, and it outraged him that his own mind could come up with such an uncharacteristically help-seeking idea. "Shut up," he ordered his small conscience, but the nagging thought kept coming back.

Once he was back in the Room of Requirement, he tried out the mystery charm, and just ended up rebounding, sending a spark shooting about the dusty room, disturbing piles of books and papers behind him. He tried a few times, and sighed, conceded to the nagging notion, and sought out Charlotte LaRocque. When he asked a few of her friends where she'd be, they looked at him in disbelief as to why he would want to know such a thing. To think that high-and-mighty Draco Malfoy was asking where common Charlotte was? They told him where to go, only to whisper suspiciously to each other the moment he was out of earshot.

* * *

Draco found her, in a most unusual spot: an abandoned lounge of sorts, complete with roaring fireplace, and comfortable-looking furniture. He had never been to this part of the castle, and he looked around, admiring the secluded nature of it all. Charlotte was curled up on a loveseat, absorbed in a book.

He cleared his throat, and to this she replied, "Just a moment," without a glance his way. She finished the page, and closed the book, placing it on the chair next to her. When she finally looked up at Draco, she added, "Well, hello there, Draco. I never imagined seeing you here. What brings you to my humble study?" She motioned to the room around her.

"_Your_ study?" he questioned, a bit uneasy about even being here, seeking her presence, or rather, assistance.

"Of course it's not actually mine," she admitted as she stood, stretching. "But I do usually happen to be the only one using this room. Everyone else thinks it's haunted, and I let them continue to think that, so I can be alone when I want to be."

"Makes sense. I often wish I had a place like this," Draco looked about the room absentmindedly.

Charlotte nodded, "Indeed, solitude is often a man's –or a woman's– best friend, especially in trying times. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure, Draco Malfoy?"

He sat down on a couch, "Well, I find myself in a bit of an unusual predicament."

"All right, what is it? Perhaps I can be of help to you?" she suggested, sensing his unease. She sat down directly opposite him, facing him and analyzing his expression.

He took a deep breath, "Well, for one of my classes, my Professor has me doing an extra sort of… research project, on Vanishing Cabinets, are you familiar with them?"

She nodded, "Yes, I believe so. Temperamental things, aren't they? And from what I've read, used for devious activities. What do you want to know?"

He was unsure for a moment, _Can I trust her with this? I won't tell her anything about what I'm exactly doing, it's just figuring out this one spell._ He sighed, and got the paper out, with the characteristics of Vanishing Cabinets and showed her, "Here's one of my, um, resources. I need help reading something, and figuring out if I'm doing it –I mean, understanding it in the correct, well, context."

She moved to sit right next to him, and placed an arm a bit behind him so she could lean in close to examine the sheet. "I see. What is it you aren't sure about?"

"This part here," he handed the parchment to her, pointing out the spell that he barely make out, much less execute properly.

She took it, examined it, and muttered, "Well, this is probably the messiest handwriting I've ever seen, hold on a bit." She studied it, and Draco took to pacing, admiring the paintings around the room.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, "A very complex Repairing and Restoring charm! Have you consulted Flitwick about this? He may know a trick or two."

"No!" he instantly retorted, but recovered quickly to assuage her suddenly curious gaze as to why, "I asked the professor who assigned the project if I should ask him for aid, and he said that, in order to get the credit, I must do it without any help from extraneous professors."

"Okay, then, have you tried performing it?"

"Yes, and all I get is a destructive and misbehaving rebound."

"Perhaps you're reading it wrong. Would you like me to help you learn how to do it? It'll be a learning experience for both of us." Charlotte suggested, glancing from the sheet to Draco, her eyes flashing with anticipation at this new spell.

"That would be most beneficial, I think, Miss LaRocque. We shall start immediately. This is an urgent project." Draco clipped.

She stood once again, returning the refolded piece of parchment to him, a kind smile on her face, "I told you, call me Charlotte. And of course, right away is perfect." She went to his side, held up her wand, pointed it at a broken armoire, and spoke the difficult spell. Draco laughed at the familiar rebound spark that bounced around the room.

"Take it easy, it's only my first try," she implored, half-smiling, a laugh escaping her lips as well.

Draco was pleasantly surprised, in fact, at her ability, as it had taken him days to even conjure half of what Charlotte had just produced.

Charlotte looked at him, a little unenthused, "I hope you've got the afternoon free, Draco. This may take some time." She sighed, and tried again.

It rebounded again, producing another insolent spark, this time shattering a vase. They both laughed, and Draco realized, as he proceeded to nearly shatter a window, that he didn't mind wasting time trying to master this spell. He didn't care if it took them all night to figure out. For the first time since his important 'task' was assigned to him, Draco Malfoy was genuinely laughing, and having fun.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"I told you, leave me alone. Both of you, get lost. I need to work on my homework." Draco dismissed Crabbe and Goyle for the fourth time that day. The Vanishing Cabinet had recently proven to be a most stressful thing. He had finished repairing it, but he wasn't sure what to do next. He should be testing it out, but he was stalling, focusing on schoolwork and his lessons in Occlumency. He was afraid to admit that he was beginning to suffer under the growing pressure of his being a Death Eater. He had nearly mastered the mysterious art of protecting one's mind, and he was growing weary of his dreadful aunt. One fateful lesson proved he was starting to be pushed over the edge.

"Legilimens!" Bellatrix whispered, and Draco's mind was very quickly protected from even her best efforts. She nodded, "Good job, Draco. The Dark Lord will be most pleased. Now, if you could only finish that blasted Vanishing Cabinet, you'd be golden. Not that you're capable of it, but we can always hope that you don't make Snape finish everything for you so quickly." She ended her barrage of his mind and laughed derisively.

Draco stood, and glared at her, "Shut your mouth, Bellatrix! I'm working hard and doing just fine with the plans the Dark Lord has entrusted me with. You have nothing to bother me about, nothing that you can taunt me with."

"Nothing, have I? Well, you do happen to be son of one of the Dark Lord's _worst _followers, with the most failures. Sometimes I can't believe I'm related to your stupid mother! Ha! You had better be thankful that I'm doing this for you, boy. You're not worth my efforts." She scoffed, and the moment she turned her back, Draco took the opportunity.

"Cruci—!" he yelled, nearly catching her in a Cruciatus curse.

Before he could finish, Bellatrix countercursed him with a flick of her wand. She sent him flying backwards onto the ground, and laughed as he cried out from the pain of the impact. She went over to him, and looked down at him, "Not so fast, you little snake! You have to get more experience in the Dark Arts before you can perform that big of a spell on poor, unsuspecting souls. You're still just a baby, in Death Eater's clothing." She raised her hands, "Now I won't go so easy on you, boy!" And recommenced her onslaught, with much less mercy.

When he returned to the castle, it was very late, and he went to bed angry and in pain. He could barely sleep with all the bruises and lesions starting to form. The anger subsided, but the pain carried into the next day, in the form of a slight limp.

After Potions that day, in which a new seating arrangement put Charlotte LaRocque much closer to Draco, Charlotte went up to him, concerned, "Draco? Are you feeling all right? You're limping."

"Yes, I'm fine! Why do you care, anyway?" he snapped at her.

She looked at the ground, abashed, "I just asked you a question, it's nothing to get mad about. Is something troubling you?"

"You know what? I don't have t—" he glanced at her with the intention to scold her for her attempts at sympathy, but her concerned expression calmed the angry energy a bit, and he conceded, "I've just been pushed a bit too far in my tutoring sessions of late. I'm not doing as well as she wants me to."

"Ah, I see. Painful lesson last night?"

"I suppose. I threatened her, and she punished me."

"By knocking you down?" she asked, a bit worried.

"No, Charlotte, because I fell down randomly and got a bunch of bruises out of nowhere." Draco rolled his eyes, sarcastic.

"Of course, because you're such a klutz." Charlotte joked, "Tripping over girls' book bags, falling at odd moments for no reason at all, as if gravity made you its personal enemy. There's no knowing what force of nature may be targeting you next!"

"Shut up, I'm not that clumsy!" he retorted, but not as harshly as he would with Crabbe and Goyle. "I need to, um, go work on my research project."

"Ah, yes, the Vanishing Cabinet. You must be nearly done with it now, it's been almost a week since we got that tricky charm down to an art, hasn't it?" she asked.

"Yes, I suppose so. I guess now I'll go have to try it out, see if that blasted thing really wo…" he took a breath, stopping himself from revealing a step in his secret plan, and recovered, "That is, if the blasted paper is worth reading. An important step before revising, you know!"

"Indeed." She nodded, suspecting nervousness in his voice.

"What time is it, may I ask?" Draco asked, casually.

"Quarter to noon. Why do you ask?" she inquired, rustling through her bag, looking for something. She pulled out a small, rusty key. "I'm off to do my Potions and other homework in my study, care to join me? I could use the company, as well as another brilliant mind to bounce ideas off of."

"Well, um, not this time, I don't think. Once again, I have a previous engagement. I'm sorry, Charlotte." He scratched the back of his head, awkwardly.

"Are you sure? Another time, then. Well, Draco, I bid you good day!" and she added quickly before he was out of earshot, "If you ever get lonely doing your project or want some extra input, I'm always around!"

He waved at her, acknowledging her comment, but not really listening. He glanced at the clock in the hall, and took a deep breath. He walked resolutely to the Room of Requirement. He wandered about the room, finally arriving at his destination. He pulled the large sheet off of the massive thing, revealing the large Vanishing Cabinet. He took a deep breath, deciding now to do the inevitable. He had sent an owl to Borgin and Burke's shop owner, telling him of his next step, and the shop owner's part in this crucial step.

He heard the clock strike one, shut his eyes, and took a deep breath. He took an apple out of his pocket, one he had stolen from breakfast earlier that day. He unlocked the Vanishing Cabinet with a flick of his wand, opened the creaky door, and set the apple inside. Once he shut and locked the door, he closed his eyes, concentrating deeply on the incantation.

"_Harmonia Nectere Passus_," he began, "_Harmonia Nectere Passus_." A click inside the cabinet indicated that something had happened. He opened his eyes, unlocked the door, and looked inside. The apple was gone! He breathed a sigh of relief. At least half of it worked. He waited for a minute, then locked the door again as he whispered, "_Harmonia Nectere Passus. Harmonia Nectere Passus_," and once more for good measure, "_Harmonia Nectere Passus._" Another click, and he opened the cabinet once more, to find the apple had returned, but with a considerable bite out of it. He smiled. What great progress he had made, with plenty of time to practice for its crucial part in the Dark Lord's plan.

As he threw the apple away, his thoughts drifted to the other part of his task: to find a way to kill the Hogwarts Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore, the only wizard in the world the Dark Lord feared. He had no idea how to do it, in fact, he was afraid of Dumbledore himself, in a way. He always had a way of knowing certain things, and his trusting nature could soften nearly any harsh situation. Why was he so powerful? He deserved to die, or so his teachings in the Dark Arts by fellow Death Eaters told him. He rolled up his sleeve, glancing at the Dark Mark, reminding himself of his dark purpose.

He meandered around the dusty storeroom that had the Room of Requirement had become, wasting time, avoiding his real work, specifically his homework in three classes (that he could remember, anyway). He explored the huge area, and then his eye caught something that glinted in the light of the window.

It was an old black necklace, with some inlaid jewels and an old, Victorian look to it. It struck his fancy, and he admired it for a bit. It reminded him of his family's collection of old royal, Victorian jewelry, and an idea struck him. What normal person wouldn't love receiving such beautiful antique jewelry? His eyes lit up as a plan hatched in his head: He had been practicing many deadly hexes and lethal curses, he could easily put something dangerous on the necklace, so that would kill the headmaster. Simply a gift from an anonymous donor to the school, that was all, he could easily disguise it. And this way he didn't have to do the killing himself, an indirect method with the same result! He just needed to find a way to sneak it back into the school after it was cursed.

He hid the necklace in his book bag, and reluctantly went back to his classes, as it was getting dangerously close to his next course. Later he went to the Slytherin dormitory to start on his homework. He attempted to do his History of Magic and Transfiguration readings, and nearly fell asleep. He nearly finished, and as he was beginning his Potions, he became confused. All the students were called to dinner in the Great Hall, and he left briskly, pushing thoughts of homework from his mind. He instead focused on the curse he planned to put on the necklace, and how exactly to sneak it into Dumbledore's office.

After dinner, he went back to his Potions, and other subjects, but hit a dead end. He finally succumbed to the nagging suggestions his conscience was sending him, grabbed his homework and stuffed it into his already full book bag, and went to the near-abandoned study where Charlotte LaRocque was sure to be studying.

He paused, unsure of what had driven him to seek her out, again. She would be of help with Potions and such, and he had no doubt she understood Slughorn's ramblings better that he did. He shook his head, wondering why he was here, but feeling too stubborn to turn back now, lightly knocked on the door of the study, and Charlotte opened the door on the second knock.

"Draco!" she exclaimed, "You startled me!" He took in her slightly frazzled appearance: messy ponytail, a pencil tucked behind her ear. She straightened her sweater and smoothed out her hair a bit, "Come on in, and make yourself comfortable. What brings you here? I thought you had something going on…?"

"Long finished, silly girl! Now, I'm here because I want a second opinion on some of these Potions homework questions. You ought to know that, now let's get down to business, I haven't got all night." Draco demanded, and Charlotte smiled.

"As you wish," she curtsied, jokingly. His flustered expression caused her to laugh as she walked away, pulling her sleeves down at the cold from the hallways.

Inside the room a fire crackled warmly in the fireplace, and he shut the door of the room behind him. He sat on a reasonably large couch, spreading out his things just so. Charlotte's amused chuckle at his actions made Draco want to make a snide comment, but he decided against it, as she was helping him.

"Now, what is it you wanted a second opinion on, Mr. Malfoy?" Charlotte had her stuff out, as well, if not a bit messier.

Draco looked at her, "Well, I didn't quite understand what he was asking in question one."

"Let me see," she began to flip through the Potions book and rested her finger, "It seems to describe right here how to use a bezoar, it isn't too complex, once you read it a time or two. Wouldn't you agree?" She looked at him, imploring.

Draco became apprehensive, as he hadn't done the reading since day one, practically, and finally managed to speak rather quickly, "Of course, of course, now, what page is it again? And remind me what a bezoar is?"

"Page number 122," she watched him fumble with the book, attempting to look aloof, and in turn failing to hide his confusion. She sighed, "You didn't do the reading, did you?"

"I did too!" At her implicating frown, he confessed, "I went through it, only I wasn't focusing at all on the subject, skimmed it, really."

"Okay, I'll sum it up for you, then we can answer the questions and such together, all right?" She sighed, finding his apparent lack of motivation rather annoying, but she commended him for trying, and for coming to her for help. He had answered the questions, however incorrectly. She knew that if he tried harder, he could master the class, she had seen how good he was in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Why couldn't he apply that amount of intelligence and motivation to Potions?

Draco agreed to her plan, and they actually got a good amount of work done. Potions didn't turn out to be quite a bother, and they moved on to other subjects.

"What did you write about the cause of that old Wizarding conflict in 16th century Great Britain? I wrote some rubbish about the political tensions and such, could you take a look at it?" Draco inquired, and Charlotte moved to sit next to him, reading his response quickly and thoroughly.

"It looks good! I said something about the impoverished magical folk's protests and uprisings, but yours brings up another valid point I would have forgotten. Well done, Draco!" She smiled, and he smiled in return.

The clock struck ten o'clock, nearing the curfew for students.

"Well, we should probably be off to bed soon, we've been working awhile." Charlotte stood and stretched, "In fact, I've never been in here past eleven, I'm quite afraid that the place may actually be haunted, especially after-hours!" She laughed, and Draco laughed with her. He wasn't sure why he did so, it was not a very funny comment, once he thought about it.

"You know," he said, as he gathered up his things, "I'm rather glad I came. A lot of good insights shared here tonight, and I think I understand Potions a little better. I was more productive tonight than I have been all month, I daresay!"

"Really? I have a hard time believing that!" she winked, and he shoved her good-humoredly. "Want to make this a regular thing? I think I even got more done here tonight. It does get a little lonely in here, and I can't focus very well when I get that way," she conceded, playing with a stray hair, a bit of a nervous habit.

Draco was hesitant, but he knew his mother would be on his case if he got any father behind in school. As much as he hated to admit it, he had actually enjoyed himself here in Charlotte's study, and it felt good to take his mind off the building pressure on him and his new role, and be productive for a night. "I don't know, but…" her innocent expression, awaiting his reply made him sigh, feigning defeat, "I suppose I could make time for it, and I could use the help. But you already know that."

"I sure do! All those wrongly spelled incantations, it's no wonder you can't do the charms and such as well in class!" She put her hands on her hips shaking her head.

"Oh, hush! You're one to talk, especially with your not-so-successful conjuring in Defense Against the Dark Arts. What was it about a certain vampire bat you 'accidentally' set on the scent of one Miss Clearwater? Your roommate, no less?" he hinted at one of her more recent failures.

"All right, fine, fine, so we both have our weak points. We can help one another. Now, are you sure you want to spend so much time with such a lowly girl as me? Doing schoolwork, _no less_?" she used his phrase, keeping his attention.

"Yes, it will be most beneficial to me, and I can perhaps even show you a thing or two in your 'problem areas'. Until tomorrow, then?" Draco offered his hand, and Charlotte took it, smiling slightly.

"Yes, until tomorrow." As they shook hands, Charlotte noticed something strange on Draco's left arm, under his sleeve. _A shadow?_ She wondered to herself, and, hiding her curiosity, let go of his hand and watched him pull his left sleeve down to the wrist for maybe the tenth time that night. She waved good-bye, and began contemplating, _Did Draco Malfoy have something to hide?_ She tried to push the thought aside, but it refused to go away, the curiosity constantly nagging at the back of her mind.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Miss LaRocque is now going to demonstrate how to produce a Patronus charm. This is a crucial ability in any collision with the Dark Arts, as Dementors are usually never far from the presence of Dark Magic. Ready?" Snape inquired.

Charlotte nodded, and focused. Draco Malfoy waited with masked anticipation for her result, they had been working on this all week, during their nightly study time. He didn't want to show it, but he actually hoped she did well.

With purpose, she spoke clearly, "_Expecto_ _Patronum_!" and from the tip of her wand, a brilliant light appeared, and a shape took form. The light began to take the form of a rearing, whinnying horse, and it proceeded to race about the classroom at Charlotte's beckoning.

"Nice job, Miss LaRocque." Snape commended her, and continued on, "One's Patronus usually describes one's personality, reflecting one's spirit and life experience. In this case, Miss LaRocque's is a horse. This kind of Patronus is quite rare, and indicates a rather free spirit, with a lot to give in all he or she does, and often a heart of gold." Snape paused to glance at Charlotte, who was smiling, watching her Patronus run about, making a trail of bright light behind it, and came to rest beside her, fading as she let her wand arm fall to rest at her side.

"Now, who is ready to try? Miss LaRocque has set the bar quite high for the rest of you. If you would care to repeat this incantation, and focus on a single, pleasant thought, one that stands out to you as being especially strong. Focus on that, and you will have a better chance of succeeding." He waved his wand, and the chalk rose from its tray, writing the words of the charm on the blackboard in stylized print: _Expecto Patronum._

"Could you show us how to do it, perhaps, Professor?" a boy with messy blond hair asked, a little confused.

Snape turned on him, "You were just presented with a perfect example, and I expect you all to follow, or at least try. Why would you need additional—?"

"Because you're our professor, and you need to teach us how," Hermione Granger spoke up, curious as to why he wouldn't demonstrate this particularly difficult charm for class, with his own Patronus.

"Learning by trial and error is nearly as effective, Miss Granger. I like to believe my students to be at least capable of that, and not needing to be led by the nose every step of the way. Now, try it, everyone, before I lose my patience and take 5 points from each house for every person here." Snape narrowed his eyes, trying to hide his defensive streak. The students were silent for a moment or two, and then a few ventured to try the spell out. He motioned for Charlotte to return to her seat.

Snape had no reason to show them all his Patronus, much less use it for show and tell. He wasn't ashamed of it, not at all, he simply didn't want everyone to see it, and ask about it. It was merely proof of a long past secret devotion, leftover evidence of a love that never could be. He paced, shaking the flooding memories from his mind, and observed the successes, or lack thereof, of the students in his class.

A few conjured merely a sustaining glimmer, some merely a spark, others nothing, while still others were able to conjure whole-bodied Patronuses. Snape watched to see how Draco Malfoy was doing, and what he saw surprised him. At first, Draco wasn't trying very hard, barely conjuring anything. However, something seemed to catch his eye, and he sat up straighter, appeared to focus, and conjured an entire Patronus, as though struck with inspiration.

It was hard to make out at first, but his Patronus was moderately large, four-legged, and soon it took the shape of a dragon. Not the most formidable creature, but a dragon nonetheless. Snape did not think Draco capable of such magic, and pondered the possible reasoning or power behind it. He went back to observing other students, giving pointers and criticisms here and there.

Charlotte finally sat back down, a few seats over from Draco, and desperately wanted to see what he thought of her clear success in front of the class. She glanced over at him, pleased to see his moderately sized dragon Patronus stretching its long neck and wings in its bright light, and hoped for some kind of feedback. She wasn't sure what she would get from him, however, if anything at all.

For some reason, Draco didn't seem to acknowledge her presence in the same way while he was around classmates or professors. He talked to her in a cold, almost mockingly condescending tone whenever they were in class, or walking down the hallway. Charlotte saw right through that, and didn't let it get to her. In fact, she found it rather amusing at times. It was a totally different story when they spent time doing homework in her study, discussing Potions procedures or polishing different incantations and spells. He was friendlier in these instances, and had gotten more so over these last couple of weeks. She wasn't sure why a certain barrier came and went with him; it was just all part of the enigma of Draco Malfoy.

Today, she was lucky. When she looked over at him for a second time, he was looking in her direction, aloof, but a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. She motioned toward the front of the class and back at him, inquiring. With a slight motion of his wand, his dragon Patronus bowed its head to her in commendation, accompanied with a smile on Draco's part. Then, without a word, he went right back to bothering his classmates sitting next to him. This little nod caused her expression to brighten, and a big grin crossed her face.

Had she known what kind of effect she made on his relative success only moments earlier, it would have lifted her mood even more. Draco had been merely daydreaming through the majority of the first part of the class that day; it was mostly review, as he had learned this material long ago, thanks to his upbringing in such a Dark Magic-focused family. When he heard Snape mention Patronuses, however, he began to listen closer.

Draco himself had never had much luck conjuring a Patronus, and he and Charlotte had been practicing all week, anticipating upcoming lessons in class on the subject. He wasn't surprised when Snape called Miss Charlotte LaRocque up to demonstrate this charm; she had improved nearly to perfection with all their practice this week. A smile spread across his face as she conjured her Patronus with ease, and subtly watched it with admiration as it ran about the room, occasionally stealing a glance at the glee-filled face of Charlotte. When he saw her so happy, in a strange way, it made him happy, too.

"Look at that, what a show-off," Crabbe mumbled, scoffing.

Draco turned on him, but only slightly, "Oh, shut up, you moron, you're only jealous because you can't even get a bit of light when you try."

"It's not like I…We don't even…" he gave up, feeling the biting truth of Draco's words come through. He was terrible at the Patronus charm.

Draco was oddly proud of her, she had so desperately feared being called up and not being successful in front of the whole class, and she had done very well. She had succeeded so well, in fact, that Snape didn't even feel the need to show us another example, by conjuring one himself. After Snape's defensive comment and threat, Draco wondered, _Come to think of it, I've never even seen Snape's Patronus. I wonder what it is…? Not like we absolutely need that skill as Death Eaters, but still, I'm curious if he has one..._

Draco went to playing aimlessly with a little glimmer of Patronus, but, when Charlotte's advancing figure caught his gaze, he straightened up, and focused on a happy memory, _"Expecto_ _Patronum."_ He spoke softly and deliberately, and an entire dragon took form before him. It wasn't the most fearsome creature, but it worked for now, and he'd produced a full-bodied form. He knew Charlotte would be proud of him. It worried and confused him how much he desired her approval.

When she sat down, Draco looked in her direction, trying to remain aloof, but could barely keep from smiling as he noticed how pleased, yet nervous, she looked. She glanced over at him, asking with her eyes what he thought of her efforts. In return, he let down his façade for a moment, beckoned his dragon Patronus to bow to her in approval, and gave her a pleased smile. The way her face lit up when he did that was enough to make something in Draco's pulse skip a beat, and, out of confusion, he distracted himself by returning to the cold manner in which he usually acted.

* * *

The next day, a Saturday, Draco and Charlotte spent a good part of the morning in their study time, working hard to study for an upcoming test in Potions, Draco's hardest class.

"Now, I know you had a hard time with this before, but what are the magical properties of Hellebore?" Charlotte quizzed him.

"Well," Draco began, thinking, and then prattled off most of the necessary properties, shutting his eyes in frustration, and concluded, "and a helpful tool in treating Dugbog bites?"

"Very good! You just forgot one thing," she shook her head, disappointed.

He got very confused, "What? What do you mean? Let me see that!" he snatched the notebook from her, and looked them over. "There are six properties, Charlotte, and I recited six to you. Wait a moment, what's this?" he pointed to a scribbled-in addition to his notes, and read, "Also very tasty with…bouillabaisse? Boo-ill-a-what?" Charlotte shrugged, and discreetly hid her quill from view. Draco smirked, suspicious, "Is that what you've been scribbling all over my notes with?"

She nodded, and he lunged for the quill, throwing his notes aside, trapping her against the couch, one arm on either side of her.

"All right, now, Charlotte, give me the quill. This exam coming up is a big test for me- for both of us, for that matter. I need to focus, I can't having you distracting me," he had a playful grin on his face, and she couldn't help but return it. She'd never seen this side of him, and she decided do her best to make him all the more annoyed.

"Sorry, Draco, I can't do that right now, I need it to distract-I mean- to quiz you with!" She stood up, and stepped nimbly out of his trap, leaping to the ground behind couch, landing gracefully, almost cat-like. She tickled his nose with the feather of the quill, and dashed out of his path as he tried to catch her again, smiling mischievously.

Once she was out of his reach, she took out her wand, pointed at the quill, and spoke, _"Wingardium Leviosa!"_ At this, the quill floated high above both of their heads, and far out of reach, even though Draco reached six feet in height. While she did this, Charlotte glanced back to see a more than slightly put out Draco, smirked teasingly, and went back to playing keep-away.

Charlotte was focused on the spell and the feather quill, and didn't notice Draco coming slowly up behind her. He quickly wrapped his arms around her, pinning her arms to her sides. "Gotcha!" he said triumphantly.

"Not so fast," she said, keeping the quill up right above their heads, as her wand was still poised, arms free to move from the elbow down.

"Oh, really? Well, take this!" he grabbed two of her hands in one of his, pressed them to her body, taking her wand gingerly with the other hand. The quill, no longer suspended by her spell, drifted gently down into Draco's ready and outstretched hand. "There we go, problem solved." He spoke, looking down at her at an angle, talking in a way indicating that he was the victor. Charlotte looked up at him, narrowing her eyes in mock loathing.

The two of them suddenly noted the way they were standing: Draco with his arms locked around her waist, standing directly behind her, holding her arms hostage; while Charlotte stood with her back against him, imprisoned by his unintentional embrace. The strange thing was, neither of them was very ill at ease about how they were standing.

Charlotte laughed, and Draco's hold on her started to release. She elbowed him playfully, "All right, Draco Malfoy, you win. Let's get back to studying."

He shook his head, a bit confused. "Yes, yes, let's." They returned to their previous sitting areas, and recommenced studying. Draco's mind was racing, and he found it harder to concentrate all of a sudden. He took a look at his notes again, asked her a question, "Charlotte? Why did you write names of different food courses all over my notes?"

Charlotte laughed sheepishly, and started, "Well, I, uh, I'm a bit peckish, if you know what I mean," and her stomach growled audibly, emphasizing her growing hunger.

"You're hungry?" Draco asked, haughtily, "Why wouldn't you just say that?"

"I did, just a little more creatively. You could do with a little more creativity, _mon ami_." She nudged him, and he frowned at her, a little confused. She sighed, pleading, "We've been studying hard all morning, and I need to eat something or I'm going to collapse!"

"All right, fine, we will go in a bit. We've just a few mores terms to go over. Hold your horses, silly girl," he shook his head at her eagerness to go eat, smiling in an amused way. He suddenly realized his final sheet they needed to review was in his book bag.

"Charlotte?" he nearly whined.

"What is it?" she mockingly whined back.

He sighed, "I left my final review sheet in my book bag, and it's so very far away. Would you do me a favor and grab it for me?" he was the one doing the pleading now, and with an eye roll at his obvious laziness, Charlotte stood and went to grab his book bag. She brought it to where they were sitting.

"Where is it, oh demanding one?" she spoke to him calmly, and ignored his slight frown at her term for him.

"In there, in a folder labeled Potions, I daresay."

She rummaged through the bag, "I can't find it," she spoke, going deeper into his bag. She finally sighed, "There it is, at the bottom. Do you seriously ever organize this thing?"

"Every few days, I'll have you know. I'm a very organized person. It just so happens that today is at the end of the rotation," he conceded.

"Looks to me like it's been more than a few days," she said, and right as he was about to cut her off, she continued, "Whoops! Hold on a moment… Draco? What's this?"

He looked over to her, and she had unintentionally knocked his bag over, spilling part of its contents: a couple rolls of parchment, a textbook, and a box, with the top sliding off. She was staring at it, curious, as something glinting caught her eye. Suddenly he was filled with panic and became very cold with her.

"Charlotte, don't you dare touch that." He spoke very seriously, almost worried. He had nearly forgotten the fact that he had stowed the cursed antique necklace in his book bag for safekeeping, and to remind him to put his plan into action.

"Why not? It's just jewelry, right?" She reached for it, and Draco grabbed her wrist.

"Don't." And when she started to look suspicious as to his motives, he reverted to being standoffish and stuck-up while he continued, "It's none of your business, so leave it alone." Draco flicked his wand, and the box reclosed and was sealed with an unspoken charm. He stuffed it into his book bag, and gathered all of his things.

"What're you doing?" Charlotte asked him, confused.

He suddenly looked at his wrist, pretending there was a watch there and pulled his sleeve down, "I just realized, it's gotten far too late, I nearly forgot about something I need to do… An appointment I have…with a professor—terribly important, I really must be going. I'm sorry, but I need to get going."

"You do?" she implored, and tried to help him gather up all his parchment and such. "Will you be back later? I mean, we can continue working after your appointment, if you want."

"I don't know, Charlotte, I have to…" His mind screamed, _I just... I can't tell you! I want to, strangely enough, I want to tell you __**everything**__, but I just can't! I'm sorry…_ "I'm so sorry to leave so suddenly, I just…" and without another word, he left the study, book bag slung over his shoulder, and in his free hand, he still held Charlotte's oh-so-distracting quill.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Draco strode hastily down the hall, his mind racing. _That was far too close. What would have happened if she had touched the necklace? I'd hate for anything to… wait, why should I care what happens to her? She's just an insignificant girl, no more than that!_ He sighed, and glanced at the clock; he could afford no more stalling.

He glanced down, making sure his Dark Mark was covered, and discovered that he was still holding Charlotte's quill. He slowed his diligent pace as the morning's events replayed in his head. He wondered, what was it that made him feel so comfortable and at ease when he was around her? He felt as though he could be himself around her, which was strange to him, as he always had to live up to what everyone around him expected him to be.

His mind suddenly went to that awkward little embrace, and the fact that it didn't actually feel awkward to him. In a strange way, it felt almost natural—and it seemed that Charlotte shared the sentiment. He looked at the quill, wondering what in the world he was starting to feel, but he shook his head, pushing the thought from his mind, a disgusted frown crossing his face. He needed to focus on the task at hand. He needed to get this necklace to Dumbledore, and soon.

Draco threw on a black cloak he had stowed in his bag, so he wouldn't be recognized. He stepped out into the cold November midday, walking with purpose to Hogsmeade Village, where he intended to find someone to do his dirty work for him. Looking around tentatively, he entered the Three Broomsticks pub. He wrinkled his nose in loathing as he spotted Harry Potter talking to a couple friends, but snuck unnoticed to a deserted table at the back of the pub. It was an ideal spot to observe and choose his victim.

Only a few minutes passed, when he spotted the perfect target: Katie Bell, a sixth year Ravenclaw. No one would suspect her, and she was heading straight for him, looking for a table.

He decided to take action. He threw his hood up over his head, his face shrouded in darkness. When she was a few feet from him, he raised his wand under the table and whispered, _"Imperio!"_ Katie stopped in her tracks, her face going blank. "Come here," he beckoned in a masked voice, and she complied. "Very good. Now, take this to the office of Albus Dumbledore straightaway. Make no stops. It is imperative that this package gets to his office. Understand?"

Her vacant nod was sufficient proof, and he handed her the mysterious package, sending her away to do his bidding. He watched Katie walk past a confused friend, who followed her, unsure of what to think, but not protesting. Draco smiled, pleased.

He slipped out a back entrance of the pub, a sordid relief swelling in his chest. Draco's ability of casting the Imperius curse was very advanced for someone of his age and experience, and it served him well. He desperately hoped that his little deed worked, because, Death Eater though he was, he lacked the bloodthirst the others seemed to share. He was getting there, he was sure of it, but he just couldn't muster up the courage to look a fellow human being in the eye and take their very life force from them at this point.

He returned to Hogwarts, anticipating the news of his attempt. Hopefully it would be good news, but if it didn't work, it couldn't be traced to him, and he had other tricks up his sleeve.

He returned to his dormitory, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and wasted time with Crabbe and Goyle, whom he had not seen very much of in the recent past. He felt as though he finally had a bit of room to breathe, with his duty partially taken care of, at least he hoped.

* * *

Later that evening, there was a bit of a commotion in the Slytherin commons.

"I can't believe it!"

"She was a bloody mess when they found her, so I hear."

"No way!"

"What happened?"

"What was she smuggling?"

The Slytherin dormitory was abuzz with gossip as the story of Katie Bell and the necklace had apparently spread around the school. Upon hearing this increasing drone, Draco Malfoy decided it was time to check up on his little trick.

"What's all this? What are you all blabbing about?" Draco demanded, breaking into the gossiping circle.

Someone answered him, "It's Katie Bell! She was cursed, and she had some strange package that cut her up real bad when her friend tried to open it and take it from her."

"Really?" Draco pretended to sound intrigued, "What became of it?"

"Professors took one look at it and panicked," a younger Slytherin student spoke next, "With the help of Potter and a few other Gryffindors, they took it straight to McGonagall."

Another added, "Last I heard, Snape was taking a look at it."

At this, Draco mentally kicked himself. If Snape figured out that this was his doing, he'd no doubt get in trouble for such an attempt, and for failing, no less.

"What about the girl?" Goyle asked.

The little Slytherin from before added, "In the Infirmary, but healing, so they say."

Draco shrugged, and went back upstairs, to mull over what to do next, Crabbe and Goyle not far behind him.

At dinner that night, the three Slytherins (Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle) ate and plotted against Harry Potter, as he had destroyed their mischief once again. Crabbe and Goyle were unsure what this mischief was, but were happy to plot against Potter, no matter the reason. As they were discussing lacing his drink with something vile, Draco faintly heard someone calling his name.

He ignored it, his mind focusing on cruel matters.

"Draco! I've been looking for y—!" Charlotte said, sounding winded, as though she had just been running.

"What do you want?" he spoke coldly, interrupting her.

Her breath caught, and she frowned at him. She sighed, shaking her head. "Nothing, Malfoy. I just wanted to tell you something. But it looks like you're busy, so I'll leave you alone." And with a flip of her hair, she stalked off, irritated.

"What was that about, mate?" Crabbe asked him, confused at the exchange.

"Yeah, what would make her think she could talk to you like that?" Goyle added, somewhat haughtily.

Draco looked in her direction, regretfully finding her sitting alone, a downcast look on her face. He sighed, but replied in an indifferent tone, "I don't know. Maybe she wanted an autograph?"

They all laughed, and went back to eating. Draco kept stealing glances in Charlotte's direction, gauging her actions. He felt bad for snapping at her like that, but he was in a bad mood and had to keep up his façade in front of these two oafs. She left uncharacteristically early that evening, no doubt to be alone in her study.

As they departed the Great Hall, Goyle mused, "Hey, Malfoy, that girl who talked to you earlier looks familiar. We see you talking to her in the hallways sometimes, almost like you talk with us." He sounded almost dejected.

"That's her? Oh yeah, now I remember. Long, dark hair and always talking to you like you're her… friend." Crabbe agreed.

"Well, she is my Potions tutor, we often discuss homework between classes." Draco explained hastily. "Maybe that's what she was babbling on about earlier. Some test she forgot to warn me about."

"Oh, okay, then. Now what should we do?" Crabbe asked, shrugging.

Draco snapped back, "I don't know, you idiots! Can't you think for yourselves? I'm rather tired, I think I'll turn in early."

"But it's the weekend, and we haven't tormented the first years barely at all this year." Goyle protested.

Draco glared at the two of them. "I told you two, I'm _tired_. And I can't function well if I'm tired, much less instill the adequate amount of fear in their stupid little minds. So if you will leave me be, I'm going to bed." They nodded at him, and left his side at the stairwell into the boy's dormitory of Slytherin House. Draco drudged up the stairs, rather emotionally spent.

He changed clothes and collapsed onto his bed, drawing the curtains around his bed closed. He tried to clear his mind, letting his eyes fall slowly closed, but his mind kept racing. That day kept replaying in his head. One moment he was playing keep-away with Charlotte, the next, cursing Katie Bell. From there, his mind flashed back to Katie Bell, all cut up in the Infirmary. Then, it flashed to Charlotte's worried expression at his abrupt exit that morning, and how her face fell when he shot her down at dinner. Finally, his mind kept returning to their awkward embrace, and the fun they seemed to have during their study sessions.

He sighed, unable to clear his mind. He sat up, looked at his arm, and studied his Dark Mark in the soft light. It felt heavy on his arm, and as he traced it with his fingertip, it felt cold, foreign. He suddenly felt a chill, and reached for a sweater. When he snatched it from his dresser and threw it on, he heard a soft _clack_ as something hit the floor. Draco pulled his sweater over his head, and looked on the floor next to his bed. There, a few inches from his bed, was Charlotte's quill from earlier that day, its feather a little ruffled.

Draco picked it up, smoothed out the feather, and took a deep breath. He really wanted to make it up to Charlotte, in some way or another. He stood, and began pacing. What could he do? How could he make her feel like she wasn't just a waste of time and space to him?

Suddenly, an idea struck him. He would put this newly hatched plan into action the next day, and he really hoped it would work. He would find her, during their normal study time, and freely try to make it up to her. Something inside him genuinely wanted Charlotte LaRocque to be happy, and he couldn't explain why. He set her quill down, and once he had everything settled in his mind, he was finally able to calm down enough to fall asleep.

* * *

The very next evening, Draco sought out Charlotte at approximately 7:00, their usual study time. He asked her friends to make sure she had gone to the study, and was not disappointed. He knew she wouldn't be expecting him to show up, as he had not shown up last night. He arrived at the study, intentionally a few minutes late, took a deep breath, and went inside.

Charlotte looked up, and said, surprised, "Draco? I didn't expect to see you here tonight." She went right back to what she was doing, hiding her hesitant look.

"Yes, well, I was wondering if you could help me with something. I don't understand this at all." He got out his Potions, and they got to work.

A good amount of time passed of purely academic conversation, but within half an hour or so, Draco started to get distracted. He was afraid he would lose heart, and bail on his plan to make it up to her. He took a deep breath, and decided it was now or never.

He watched her explaining something to him, and slowly sat up straight. He started, "Hey, um, Charlotte?"

"Yeah?" she looked up, a pleasant look on her face, "Would you like me to go over something again?"

"No," he shook his head, "I want to explain something, and apologize."

Her expression clouded, unsure of what he was gong to say.

He stood, and sighed. "I was extremely rude to you, and you didn't deserve it."

"Oh, Draco, I'm really fi—"she started, but Draco held a hand up, silencing her.

"I was discourteous to you yesterday, and I feel terrible about it. Will you accept my apology?" he spoke in an unfamiliar tone, as if he'd never spoken these words in his life.

"Of course I will. Have you ever known me to be unforgiving of your little quirks?" she smiled crookedly.

"No, I don't mean that. You're very tolerant. I just want to explain something to you." He half smiled, but sobered up with the last part of his remark.

"All right, what is it?" she patted the seat next her on the couch.

Draco sat next to her, looking at his hands. "I've been assigned a task, a duty of sorts, by my family and the… group it is part of. Yesterday marked an important phase of that task. Although I can't really tell you about it, I can say that if I don't complete it, I will disgrace my family name. A failure likely warranting of punishment." He subconsciously pulled his left sleeve down.

Concern crossed her face, "What are you talking about? Punishment? Is everything okay, Draco?"

"Yes, yes, don't worry about me. It was inexcusable for me to leave so abruptly, without an explanation. I didn't realize where the time had gone. And about what happened at dinner: I shouldn't have snapped at you."

"That's okay, Draco, you were busy." She reassured him. "I just wanted to tell you something I had just heard. Gossip, that's all."

"I actually wasn't busy, Charlotte, just in a foul mood, and I got defensive. I should not have spoken to you in that way. It's just…" He stood, his hand going up to the back of his neck, rubbing it nervously. "You see, my 'task' didn't go according to plan, and I was acting out in any way I could. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but that doesn't justify my actions."

Draco stood, went to the foggy window, looking out. He continued, "Would you allow me to make it up to you for treating you so boorishly?"

Charlotte was taken aback, "Why, sure, if you want to."

Draco's courage suddenly threatened to fail him. This was the moment of truth. He took a deep breath, gathered his thoughts, and turned to face her. He then said, "Charlotte LaRocque, will you do me the honor of accompanying me to the Malfoy family's annual Holiday Ball?"

Her hands instantly went to her mouth. She was shocked. She could see he was gauging her reaction, and that it took some serious courage for him to come out and ask her this. Her brown eyes started to shine, and she smiled behind her hands.

"I mean, I can understand if you don't want to go. It's really up to you, I won't be offended…" he began rationalizing, as if he had done something wrong. He was taking her hesitance as a rejection.

"Not at all! I would be honored to accompany you, Draco!"

At this, Draco Malfoy's eyes lit up, and his heart skipped a beat. He regained his composure, and, with a pleasant smile, took Charlotte's hand and placed a small envelope in it. "Your official invitation, Miss LaRocque." She took it from him, admiring the elegant handwriting.

Charlotte was quite speechless. What would drive a person like Draco Malfoy, a normally arrogant boy who barely associates with the common people (if only to criticize and make fun of them), to act like this? Her mind was going in circles trying to figure it out, but for some reason, she didn't care.

"Oh," he added, "And this is yours, too." Charlotte looked at him, wondering what he could possibly be talking about. Draco went to his bag, reached inside, and took out a long, narrow, box. He opened it, and inside was her quill, the one they had fought over the previous day, during that game of Keep-Away. He picked it up, gently, and held it out to her. She reached for it, and as she brought it towards her, she felt his eyes upon her face.

Charlotte looked at the quill, noted Draco's long, narrow fingers gently wrapped around it and, right as she was about to take it, she glanced up at him.

His silver eyes were focused on her face, but the moment he realized she was aware of his gaze, he frowned slightly, and regained his normally aloof expression. He let go of the quill, stood up and brushed his hands on his trousers. "Now, where were we, Charlotte? Don't tell me you've gone and lost our spot now."

"Of course not, Draco, I was showing you where you got your Transfiguration spells mixed up." She resumed marking spots on his notes, glad the "normal" Draco Malfoy was back, and however cold he appeared, Charlotte knew that underneath he had a warmer, friendlier side, and she was starting to see that.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Snape sat at breakfast that morning, not able to eat more than one piece of pumpkin bread, only taking a bite at the encouraging words of Dumbledore, to prevent him from starting the day off without proper nourishment. Snape's mind was on other matters. That very professor, the one urging him to eat one more scone, was in mortal danger. The events earlier that week had put Snape on edge, looking for any trace of insurrection within the school. He hadn't heard or seen anything since the cursed necklace was apprehended and at once destroyed, but he was still on edge. Whoever did it cursed Katie Bell, and had succeeded in keeping his or her identity a secret. He asked her many questions the moment she was fit for visitors, but she could tell him nothing. Her memory had been wiped, to his dismay. He had thought it was someone working on the inside, but there was no way to prove that, so all he could do was keep a good eye out for the perpetrator to make him or herself known.

Meanwhile, at the Ravenclaw table, Charlotte was in a rather good mood. She hummed to herself, pleasantly. She reached down to her book bag, resting her fingertips on the pocket, so as to feel the familiar outline of the small envelope she had kept with her all week long. She was eating with a few of her close friends, and one spoke up.

"Why in the world are you so cheerful, Charlotte? There's a giant test in History of Magic _and_ Transfiguration today, there is nothing to be happy about," one girl asked her, inquisitive.

Charlotte went back to her food, responding easily, "Well, Bri, for one, I'm more than ready to take those tests three times over. Secondly, I'm simply looking forward to the 21st of December."

"What's the 21st of December? That's more than a month from now," Hermione sat down next to Charlotte, joining the conversation without a second thought.

"Well," Charlotte said, taking out her envelope and holding it under the table, "it just so happens I was invited to a high-class, formal ball that takes place only days after we get out for holiday break."

"You were?" Hermione replied, curious. "How exciting! Who asked you?"

"I'm not going to say. It might make him self-conscious. And I don't want to hurt his feelings, after all, I'm more concerned about what in the world I'm going to wear!" Charlotte changed the subject, drawing attention away from Draco's insecurity.

Little did she know, Draco was sitting behind her, watching her from the Slytherin table, hearing everything that was being said. At her discretion of not mentioning his name, he was eternally grateful, but wouldn't tell her, he was too proud. He was still amazed at how well his little idea had gone over, and how excited she seemed to be, even after a few days.

Later that night, Draco was the first one to arrive at their study time. He got right to work on his Potions, circling what he had questions on.

When she came in, he stood, and smiled at her pleasantly, almost deviously.

"This is a surprise, Draco, you never beat me here," Charlotte raised a single eyebrow, "Is there something wrong?"

"No, Charlotte, I was just early tonight, I suppose." Then, he couldn't contain himself, "All right, fine, I wanted to tell you something."

"What is it?" she asked, amused by his eager manner.

He stood, straightened his tie, and announced, "Professor McGonagall called me into her office only moments before I came here and congratulated me on my high score on the test today! I got a 92%, and I have you to thank for it, Miss LaRocque." He was beaming.

Charlotte was so happy at seeing his enthusiasm. She set down her bag and went to him, "Congratulations, Draco! You did so well!" She instinctively hugged him, enthusiastically, as she would do to her friends, barely thinking about it.

At this, Draco froze, but did not pull away. He looked down, and her happy expression and eyes squeezed shut made him smile, and to his surprise, he hugged Charlotte back. It was an awkward hug, but the first friendly one he'd ever actually received. As a child, he'd only been patted on the head or shoulder appraisingly when he did something well.

Charlotte felt him freeze, but did not let go, to see how he would react. When he relaxed and tentatively embraced her in return, she was amazed. She released him, and they went right to work on their studies, in much higher spirits.

They finished early, and had some time to spare. Charlotte inquired, "Are you hungry, Draco? I have some cauldron cakes, would you care for one?"

"I'm always hungry! Give me one of those." He held out his hand when she offered one to him, and when he took a bite, praised her, "This is very good."

"Thank you, I made them this afternoon. I had some extra time before dinner, and the house elves let me in the kitchen."

"Bewitch them, did you? I bet you did— imagine you casting some spell so they comply to your every whim." He laughed, trying to imagine Charlotte doing something sneaky.

"No! They actually like me, you see, as I'm kind to them. Why, is that what you'd do? Put them under a spell?" She flashed him an insinuating look.

"I can't say for sure, as I don't know a spell like that. But who's to say I wouldn't?" he paused, savoring the last few bites of the sweet little cake. Then he continued, "Now, a few days back, you tried to tell me something, what was it?"

"I did?" She looked past him searching her memory, then nodding, "Oh yeah! It's nothing too big now, but I had just seen Katie Bell in the Infirmary. She looked absolutely wretched! I was just wondering if you'd heard anything about what had happened to her." Charlotte shrugged, offering Draco another cauldron cake.

He took it, turning to focus on his hands, avoiding her gaze. He didn't want her to know that Katie's pain was his doing. He let her continue, chewing the delicious little cake slower than normal.

She sighed, "I can't imagine what that was like, to be under some sort of a curse, and then to get all sliced up by a bewitched necklace… Have you heard anything further? I heard it was a bigger plot that got foiled before anything worse could happen."

"Me? No, I uh… I haven't heard a thing about it besides that. How is she doing now, by the way? Any better?" His voice was strained, but Charlotte didn't notice.

"Definitely better. I even got to talk to her yesterday!"

Draco's eyes widened a bit, _Hold on, Charlotte knows Katie Bell?_ He started to panic, _I shouldn't have chosen her—but how was I to know that the two of them were close? Get a grip, Draco, what's done is done_. He took a deep breath, and added with the correct amount of concern, "Well that's good. I didn't know you two were friends."

"Yeah, we've been close since first year," she nodded, smiling, "What about you? I don't know hardly anything about you. Who do you usually spend time with?"

At this, he got quiet, not sure what to say. He finally finished his second little cake, wiped his hands on his trousers, and replied, "Well, I don't know—What kind of a question is that? A man needs someone to spend time with, other than himself?"

"Come on, everybody needs a friend or two! Now tell me, I don't care if they're total dorks." She didn't know what to make of his hesitance.

"Well, unless you count people I have to be nice to because of family ties, then I don't really have anyone I enjoy spending time with. There's Crabbe and Goyle, but they're closer to loyal followers, in a sense." Draco laughed, thinking about his efforts over the years to humiliate and demean those two morons.

"So, you don't have anyone to talk to when something's bugging you? Or when you're having a bad day?" She looked at him benevolently, her eyes troubled.

"I don't need anyone. I'm fine by myself, thank you very much. What about you? What do you do when you're having a bad day?" he scoffed.

She frowned back at him, but replied in a gentler tone, "When my day takes a turn for the worse, I go talk to someone who cares about my well-being, and whom I know will listen to my problems no matter what. It really helps, knowing someone is there for me."

"Makes sense." He shrugged, "But don't worry about me, I've got all the company I need."

Charlotte nodded, moving on to another subject that she knew would make him feel good. "Now, tell me exactly what McGonagall said to you today. I want to know every detail!"

The two of them talked into the night, and when curfew came around, they started back to their houses. Upon nearly reaching Ravenclaw house, Draco started to get a little lightheaded. He veered off suddenly, and when Charlotte noticed he was gone, she looked around, finding Draco leaning up against a pillar in a side hallway.

She ran up to him, worried, "Draco? What's wrong?"

His right hand shot to his left wrist. Pain shot up his arm from his Dark Mark as it writhed underneath his sleeve. He clenched his teeth, his eyes shut, trying to respond to her question. He took a deep breath, pushed the pain deep inside him, and sighed. "I'm fine. Just a cramp, that's all. You go on ahead, I'll catch up in a minute, I dropped my bag."

"Do you want me to call for Madam Pomfrey? You don't look good at all."

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. Just let me regain my composure. Don't call her, it's not that big, and it's not something she can help with." He ran his hand through his hair, grabbed his things, and walked on, ignoring the questioning look on Charlotte's face.

They got to Ravenclaw, or at least as close as Draco wanted to, for fear of being jeered at, what with his being a Slytherin, a rival house. Charlotte completely understood, smiling at his apparently logical reasoning.

Right before she left him to go up to her house dormitory, she looked into his eyes and spoke meaningfully, "Draco? If you ever need someone to talk to, anytime at all, I'm here for you. No matter what it is, you've got me. All right?"

Unsure of how to respond, he raised an eyebrow slightly, and nodded. She smiled and added, "Good night, Draco, _mon cher!_" She waved congenially as she went to the portrait guarding the entrance to Ravenclaw house.

Draco walked back to Slytherin house, trying to wrap his mind around what she had just said. He had long given up trying to translate her little French remarks, but he realized something. He'd actually gained a friend. He wouldn't go blabbing to Crabbe and Goyle about it, and he wasn't sure what to make of it, but something about it felt good to him.

He went up to his dormitory, and looked through his mail. One letter caught his eye, as he read the familiar, lavish handwriting. He opened it, unsure why his mother would be writing to him. He worried it was about the necklace incident, but he opened it nonetheless. It wasn't a Howler note, so he hadn't been found out. He read it to himself:

_Dear Draco,_

_How are you doing at school? Why do I even bother to ask? I would expect nothing less than exceptionally well from a Malfoy. You father and I heard some rumors of an attempt on Dumbledore's life in the recent past with some enchanted object or another. We are glad whoever it was failed to kill him. You still have your chance to do what duty the Dark Lord has so generously bestowed upon you, and do it with valor, showing your Death Eater prowess._

_Before I finish, I have one more request of you. The Malfoy Holiday Ball is in less than a month, and you had better find a suitable girl to wear on your arm. This is an important year for you: your first as a Death Eater. Most of the guests will be unaware of this, of course, but your presence and airs are most important, as this is your first time appearing as a verifiable "adult" to our peers. So the girl you choose to accompany you had better be of good quality, no Mudbloods, I warn you, or you'll be ridiculed by our associates, and reviled by your master, the Dark Lord._

_Write back soon, dear, you know how I hate to wait._

_Your Mother, Narcissa Malfoy_

Draco immediately went to replying to the letter, assuring his mother that he, too, was glad that he still had a chance at taking the headmaster's life. He also wrote of the successes with the Vanishing Cabinet, and the fact that his Dark Magic was improving significantly. Finally, he assured his mother that he had chosen an ideal girl to accompany him who was of good breeding and temperament. He signed the reply, and sent for an owl to deliver his letter.

After he sent it, something hit him. He had no idea what Charlotte's breeding was, and he was unsure as to why the question hadn't crossed his mind. He had simply started to get to know her, and something about her made him want to ask her to the Ball. For the first time, he had opened up to someone who he hadn't known before this year. It was strange to him, not to have heard a thing about her before, yet fraternizing with her so easily in these past few weeks. He wondered about her family, her life in the past, what she… Draco realized how strange his train of thought was, and stood, trying to shake her from his head.

He went to his dresser mirror, admired his reflection a bit, and thought incredulously, _Draco Malfoy, thinking about anyone but himself? What is the world coming to?_ Another voice in his head spoke up, _Maybe she'll do you good, if you let her into your world a little bit. You've never really had a true friend, you know, it could be good for you._ Draco sighed. This inner debate really confused him, and he tried to ignore it as it raged in his head as he got ready for bed.

His final thought before drifting off to sleep was a happy one, affirming that, no matter what it means right now, he, Draco Malfoy, had a friend, and a good one at that. Little did he know how much he'd need one in the near future.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

As November drew to a close and December arrived, bringing with it more snow and cold weather, Draco and Charlotte began spending more time together. One chilly evening, the two of them were on their way back to the castle from a trip to Hogsmeade when the steadily falling snow suddenly became a blizzard, gales of icy wind hitting their faces. Charlotte looked about, desperately searching for some place for shelter. She grabbed Draco's arm, and motioned towards a dark structure not too far away. They made it without too much trouble, and entered the little deserted, old building. It protected from the wind, thankfully, so the two of them decided to wait for the gales to die down.

"What bloody terrible weather!" he exclaimed, shaking snow from his cloak and hair. "I can't believe this! We're going to miss dinner, and Crabbe and Goyle are going to kill me for leaving them alone. They can't do a thing on their own, I swear."

Charlotte was a little more systematic with her brushing of snow from her coat and sighed, "Oh, hush, the apes will survive one meal without their keeper." She winked, and his bothered expression made her giggle. She took a look around, and noted that, even though the shack looked old and rickety, it seemed sturdy.

"Charlotte," he whined, "how long will this storm last?"

"I don't know, Draco, forecast said it was going to snow all night. Just be glad you're not walking in it, we'd still have a ways before reaching the castle, anyway." She replied, absently. He followed her into what looked like it could be a living room.

"Ugh!" he exclaimed, crossing his arms in defeat.

Charlotte rolled her eyes at his grumbling behavior; sometimes he acted just like a child. She decided to take a look around. She found a stairwell at one end of the room, tried out the bottom step, and it creaked loudly. She glanced back to where the white-blonde-haired boy sat, and noticed him observing her passively.

Draco kept an eye on her, but wasn't being too obvious about it. She started slowly up the stairs, glancing at him for a second, and then up the dark staircase. When Charlotte started back down, he relaxed a bit, and was startled when, without warning, she ran to the top of the stairs. He sprang to his feet as he heard a crash, and then silence. He went up the stairs after her, more carefully, and looked around for any source of movement. Then he heard another crunching noise, followed by laughter.

"Ch…Charlotte?" he asked, tentatively. He got out his wand and spoke; "_Lumos._" Light illuminated the dark corridor at the top of the steps.

His only reply was more laughing, and he found her in a side room, lying on the floor, with a crushed chair beneath her. His rigid shoulders relaxed, as he looked at her sideways and inquired, "Charlotte, what are you doing?"

He helped her stand, and she suppressed her giggles so she could reply, "I wanted to scare you, but I tripped over that table and fell flat on my face. It took me all I had not to laugh. Then I crept over here, and found this chair. An adequate place to regain my composure, I thought, but then…" she started to laugh again, "As I sit down, it breaks right under me!"

"Don't _do _that," he said, still a little shaken.

"You were afraid for me, weren't you?" she asked, cocking her head to the side and smiling suggestively.

"Psh, no, I just… if you didn't get back to Hogwarts in one piece I know they'd blame me." He rambled a bit, waving his wand around.

Suddenly there was a loud _crack_! and the sound of a piece of furniture shift in the next room. They froze, listening for anything more. Charlotte was the first to move, towards the wall between this and the next room. As she listened, Draco looked around, something occurring to him. He knew this room… He glanced around, stopping at the single window, which was cracked in an oddly familiar way, and noticed a cluster of familiar dark streaks—blood, no doubt, that morbidly decorated the wall. His eyes widened as he realized where they were: The Shrieking Shack.

"Bloody hell," he whispered, and glanced back at Charlotte. He shot her a questioning look, and she responded with a fearful nod. He glanced at his left wrist, which had started to tingle, and saw his Dark Mark begin to writhe and move, but only slightly. He knew this meant another Death Eater, or worse, was near. They weren't alone in the Shrieking Shack.

Draco dimmed his wand, and crept silently over to Charlotte. He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, "We're not alone, are we?" She shook her head, fear and curiosity crossing her face. He knew that little bit of curiosity meant she wanted to check it out. "No, Charlotte. We don't know who or what it is, and I don't want you to…" he corrected himself, "and you don't want to get hurt, now, do you?"

She shook her head. But she insisted, whispering back, "Come on, maybe it's someone we know—a professor or another student?" When he shook his head again, fear in his eyes, she frowned, trying to figure out why he was so afraid. "What is it, Draco? You look pale as a ghost." Charlotte turned, ignoring his pleading look, and started silently towards the door.

Draco's fear of what lay ahead was more for Charlotte than for himself. If he was found out alone in the Shrieking Shack, he could use the excuse of taking time to practice his Dark Magic. If a Death Eater found _her_ here, however, she could be killed for fear of her telling others what she had seen. He eventually followed her, prepared to defend himself, as well as Charlotte.

She inched forward, and froze when she peered in the doorway of the next room down. Draco crept forward, too, although his instincts told him to get out of there, and quick!

There, in the darkness of the deserted room, stood two hooded figures, close to one another, whispering something in the silence of the room. Draco tried to identify them, but they were being too quiet, conjuring something dark and odious that was spewing dark green smoke.

Slowly, Charlotte started to back away down the hall, trying to be quiet as she could, but she backed into a small end table. The two figures stopped talking, and began to listen intently. She looked at Draco with fear, and he just acted on instinct. He grabbed her hand, silenced their footsteps with a mental incantation, and led her into a dark, windowless room to hide in down the hallway.

The two of them went to the farthest, darkest corner of the room, and took cover behind a broken bed. He threw on his hood, and whispered to her, "Stay close, and I'll hide us." Charlotte nodded, grabbing his cloak and burying her face in his chest, afraid for their lives. He whispered, "_Evanesco!_" and they became invisible.

The two of them heard the footsteps of the mysterious, cloaked figures going by slowly, peering into rooms with an illuminating glow from their wands. One reached their dark hiding place. Charlotte only tightened her grip on him, holding her breath. Draco was feeling very afraid, too, and when he saw the glow moving about the room, he had to shut his eyes and concentrate really hard to keep from whimpering. He became acutely aware of his pounding heartbeat, and of the rapid beating of Charlotte's heart, as well.

He opened his eyes, looked about slowly, and noticed the eerie glow was fading. He tried to sit up, but his muscles were still too tense to move that much, so he craned his neck around, listening for any evidence of them Disapparating. A few moments after he began searching for it, he heard the familiar sound of the two figures Disapparating with a loud _crack!_

They waited a few moments, and when she decided the coast was clear, Charlotte sat up. Draco lifted the invisibility charm he had cast, and took a few minutes to regain his composure.

She looked at him, "What were those things? People?"

"Yes, and Death Eaters, by the look of them. Or maybe a couple of Dementors. There are a lot of them around lately, too." Draco panted.

They finally calmed their racing heart rates, and Charlotte cast a small Incendio spell to light the candles in the room. She was the first to notice that, since they had bolted to this dark, stuffy hiding place, Draco had not let go of her hand. "Uh, Draco?" she asked, and when he looked at her, attentive, she glanced down to his hand holding hers, curiously. His face immediately clouded, and he released her hand without another thought.

He stood, wiping his hands on his shirt. "Well, that was a frightening experience I do not wish to relive. Word of advice: next time you pick a place to hide in during a snowstorm, don't let the Shrieking Shack be your first choice."

"This is the Shrieking Shack? Then it's no wonder the creeps all decide to hang around here," she laughed to herself.

Draco was about to defend himself for coming here from time to time, but refrained from saying anything, as that would reveal that he was one of the so-called creeps who spent time here. He didn't want to get into that right now.

"Well, what do you want to do now? Do you think anyone else will show up?"

"No, I don't think so." He sighed, suddenly tired. "Is it snowing anymore?"

She stood and peered out the window, sighing, "Yeah, and I think it's coming down harder than before."

"Aarghh…" he moaned, and Charlotte turned to face him, annoyed.

She put her hands on her hips, "We just had a near run-in with bloodthirsty Death Eaters, and you're worried about a little snow. Sometimes I wonder how your mind works, Draco Malfoy." She shook her head, and walked out of the room, taking one last glance in either direction to make sure the coast was clear.

As her footsteps faded, he pleaded halfheartedly, "Don't go, Charlotte, I don't want to be alone in the Shrieking Shack!"

"You're not alone, I'm just exploring," she called, from another room.

Draco took a deep breath, running his hand through his hair. That was too close. Her being associated with him was proving to be dangerous. First she's almost cursed by the necklace, and now this! He needed to be more careful. He couldn't turn his back on his responsibilities as a Death Eater, but this girl was starting to make him question whether this was the right path. And he sure as bloody hell didn't want to lose her. Something about her made him feel too good to want to stop spending time with her.

He stood, trying to calm his nerves. He went back downstairs to where he dropped his book bag and shopping wares and sighed. He looked around.

"Well," he spoke loudly, so she could hear him, "since it doesn't appear that the snow will be stopping anytime soon, should we plan to spend the night here in the Shrieking Shack?"

"I suppose, yeah, we may have to," Charlotte called back, "But give it a little more time before you break out the sleeping bags and ghost stories."

Draco heard her chuckle as she finished the little remark, and he retorted, "Ha ha." What she said gave him an idea, though, and he looked for somewhere or something to sleep on. Unsuccessful in that venture, he hunted for something else to do. He sat down next to his book bag, and amused himself by looking through a school textbook, although it was boring him nearly to tears.

Charlotte finally came back down, "Draco, I had no idea you were so interested in Ancient Runes." He looked up, raised an eyebrow at her, and she motioned to the book he was reading.

He shook his head, "No, I was bored and I took your book to glance through. I must say I am very glad I am not taking that class, it's a rather dull subject, if you ask me." He shut the book and put it back in her bag. "Now what?" He stood, stretching.

"Let's take a look outside, shall we?" She went to the front door, opened it, and was greeted by an icy gale of wind. She quickly shut the door, and shook off the snow. She returned to Draco, shivering, "Nope, we are not going anywhere tonight. We'd freeze out there in two minutes flat."

He rolled his eyes, "Fine. If we have to, then I guess I'll tolerate it. What should we do about… sleeping arrangements?"

"Well, let me think. There's a fireplace in here, if you want to help me start a fire. I need some fuel, but it should keep us warm." The two of them grabbed a broken chair and coffee table fragments, and they lit a fire in the fireplace.

The two of them sat up against the furniture in the center of the room, in an area close to the fireplace, right next to one another. Charlotte grabbed her overcoat, and made a sleeping pad on the ground, and Draco did the same with his. As they did so, Charlotte began to hum pleasantly.

Draco looked from the fire to Charlotte and back, and decided to ask her a question that had been burning in the back of his mind. "Charlotte? I'm curious, what do you think of Death Eaters?"

"Well, in general, Death Eaters freak me out. I hope to never get in a sticky situation with one of them, or get any closer to them than we did tonight. If they were even Death Eaters at all, that is. The whole idea of being bound to someone so hateful, so evil, it scares me."

"Really?" Draco's gaze went to his fortunately concealed wrist.

She nodded, "I could never do that: live a life in servitude to such an individual with such terrible power. I'd be afraid for my life every single day. Afraid that I'd be found out, or punished, if I ever did something wrong."

"You would?" Draco was very interested in her response.

"Uh-huh. I also believe every person has a choice, no matter what their birthright, how or why they act the way they do. There definitely are good and evil wizards, and magic, but we all have free will. Even though some people have done atrocious things, and are subjugated to lives they don't wish to live, they deserve to be given another chance, if that is what they desire with all of their being."

Draco absorbed this, and added tentatively, "What if someone were brought up to believe one thing, as time goes on, they start to question those teachings? How would you feel about someone like that?"

"Well," Charlotte mused, "someone can always change what they believe. There's always that option of choice. And—"

"But if they were denied that option? At penalty of dea… something very bad, like torture?" he pressed.

"That's a tough situation, but I still stand by my belief of a choice, and second chances. I would give almost anyone a second chance, if it were up to me," she said, confidence in her voice.

Draco contemplated her responses, staring at the flames of the fire, and how something about them struck a chord in his cold heart. Soon, he felt a weight on his shoulder. He looked down, and saw Charlotte's head was leaning gently on him. He examined her face, and it was serene, her eyes shut in a calm sleep. He rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile. He really was glad that she had listened to him, and not jumped to conclusions.

He nudged her, "Charlotte? You're falling asleep. You should probably lie down."

Her eyes opened tiredly, and she said, "Yeah, okay." He helped her onto her makeshift sleeping pad, and she took a deep breath. He then heard her mumble, "Good night, Draco, dear."

Draco didn't acknowledge the little fluttering in his stomach when she said that. He looked at her, and her eyes had already fallen shut once again. He smiled slightly, and replied, "Good night, Charlotte." Although he kept an ear out for any sign of danger, they slept soundly in the Shrieking Shack, without any further disturbances that dark, snowy night.

* * *

When Draco awoke the next morning, he found that he hand his arm draped around Charlotte's shoulder, almost protectively. His eyes widened, and he almost pulled away when he heard her sigh. He looked down, and Charlotte had her face almost buried in his chest, one of her hands grasping the winter cloak he still had on from the night before. It was as though in her mind, the events of the previous night were still replaying, and she needed to stay close even while she was safe and asleep. He let her stay that way, and when she shifted, releasing him from her grip, Draco stood smoothly, not disturbing her, and went outside to get some fresh air.

As he stood in the freshly fallen snow in the early morning sunlight, he sighed. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, he was starting to feel very protective of Charlotte, and he desperately didn't want to look like a fool to her. Something inside his cold heart was starting to feel something for her, but he didn't know what to call it. He pulled up his sleeve, studying his Dark Mark. How could a Death Eater… how could Draco himself feel anything but disdain for a fellow human being who, by his supposed standards, was far below his sphere of concern? He was shaken from his reverie by a panicked call, "Draco? Where are you? Draco!"

And with an amused smile, he went back into the Shrieking Shack, greeted by a suddenly very relieved Charlotte LaRocque. Once she scolded him sufficiently for scaring her, they doused the ashes in the fireplace, gathered their things, and resumed their return to Hogwarts. All the way back, Draco couldn't help the fact that his glance drifted to Charlotte periodically. She didn't notice, thankfully, but Draco could obviously feel the weight of his Dark Mark was less than usual as they walked back, and he had a feeling that Charlotte was to thank for that.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

As Draco walked out of the Room of Requirement one afternoon, chanting the spell he had nearly perfected for the Vanishing Cabinet, the wall reformed behind him to look as though a door wasn't really there. He kept chanting, "Harmonia Nectere Passus, Harmonia Nect…" not paying any attention to where he was going.

He didn't see Charlotte and Hermione walk around the corner, talking, and he ran smack into them. He saw Hermione first, and practically yelled, "Ugh, Granger! Get out of my way, you filthy Mudblood! Always trying to inconvenience me." Then he saw Charlotte next to her, looking shocked. "Ah, Charlotte, just the person I want to see. Come with me, I need to talk to you."

He motioned with his hand to follow him. Hermione and Charlotte shared a look, utterly confused by his sudden shift in temper, but Charlotte followed him, waving goodbye to her friend with a puzzled shrug.

"What was that about?" she asked him, a little upset.

Draco shrugged, "Hermione is another one of those 'long history of hatred and rivalry' people. You know, like Potter and Weasley. I don't mean anything by it, it's just, the three of them _always_ think I'm up to something evil."

"Well, are you?" Charlotte frowned.

"No!" he replied, "Why, do you suspect me of something? Ah, never mind. It's usually an unfounded suspicion. Anyway, I have some good news!"

Her expression softened, "You do? What is it?"

"My Vanishing Cabinet project has been taken to a new level! Since I did so well on the written part of it, I've been able to try out my abilities on a real Vanishing Cabinet!"

"That's wonderful. And how did it go?"

"Very well. I'm excelling at my project. Hopefully I'll be ready for the final phase."

"What does that entail?" she asked, curious.

Draco stuttered, "Well, I… I don't know. The professor won't tell me. Maybe I'll have to be able to transport bigger and bigger things. That's my guess." He trailed off as he saw Professor Slughorn, followed by a gaggle of his prized students. He furrowed his brow as he watched them go up some stairs to his quarters.

Charlotte noticed his agitation, and asked him, putting a hand on his chest, "Draco? Hey, what're you…" she followed his gaze and continued, "Slughorn? Why do you look so mad about him?"

"It's the Slug Club. Sounds atrocious, but it's made up of his favorites—the best in his classes, or something. And _I_ wasn't included. I should be up there with them, I'm so much better than all those…"

"I know, I know," Charlotte cut him off, trying to calm him. "You've been doing fine in Potions, and you aren't used to not being the teacher's favorite. But don't worry about them. Hey, if I didn't get in, what kind of people do you think he's picking?"

"True, you are talented at Potions, but… if Potter got in instead of me, then something's wrong with that. Something's going on…" Draco started to follow them.

Charlotte ran to catch up with him, "Draco! Forget about them! If they didn't pick you, then the group must not be all that it's cracked up to be."

"But…" he almost said, 'I need to get in there to make sure he doesn't give Potter the info he's looking for' but instead he gave in to her gentle tugging on his sleeve. "Fine," he sulked, "I won't go and spy on the blasted Slug Club." He rolled his eyes, and focused on Charlotte's rambling that successfully distracted him from the angst he felt towards the group.

Professor Snape heard the two of them talking as they passed his classroom, and got an idea. If anyone would know about trouble or sneaking around at the school, it would be Draco Malfoy. He could easily pump info from him about the attempt on the Headmaster's life, in fact, Draco may even have been the perpetrator. He walked very quickly out into the hallway, and caught up to them easily.

"Mister Malfoy? Can I borrow you for a second?" then he turned to Charlotte, "So sorry to interrupt. You can come along, if you want, Miss LaRocque. I have a new Giant Vampire Bat you may be interested in, while we converse."

She nodded, suddenly intrigued, "I would be very much interested, Professor. What region of the world is it from? Is it a live animal, or taxidermy?"

"She is alive and well, an excellent creature from the deepest recesses of the Amazon Basin. I like to call her… Bella," at this, he looked at Draco, and he shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, as they went back to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. "There she is," he motioned towards the front of the classroom, behind a half-drawn curtain.

"Thank you, Professor," Charlotte smiled, and raced down to where she was directed, a high-pitched squeak greeting her. "Why hello there, Bella! You really are a beautiful girl." She went on to examine the bat's wings, face, and body.

Meanwhile, Snape sat Draco down in the topmost row. "Malfoy, I have a few questions for you. I'm sure you're aware of the fact that someone made an attempt, and a failed one at that, on Dumbledore's life. Did you know that?"

"Of course I did. I heard and I was appalled. Anyone who thinks such a stupid effort could be successful in killing a headmaster is an absolute dolt." Draco asserted. "I'm only glad I still have the chance. I need to do that to fulfill my very important task, but you already know that, don't you?" He sneered insubordinately at his professor.

"Yes, I do, but I'm starting to question your ability to do so, young Malfoy." Snape scoffed. His arm tingled with the memory of the Unbreakable Vow he'd made to his sister about this troublesome boy, this son of hers.

Draco retorted, "It's all under control, Severus, and I have plenty of time. Remember I have multiple parts in this plot by the Dark Lord, and I need time to make sure I do them well."

"Fine. I'm simply making sure this whole necklace deal wasn't your doing, and I'm still not convinced. I will find out who did this, and if you're protecting someone –Crabbe or Goyle, perhaps?– then you won't be so lucky next time." Snape stood, and left Draco to contemplate his words. He walked down the stairs on one side of the room to find Charlotte, see what she thought of his new prize.

The professor came upon her, and she had gotten the big bat out of her cage, and had her tethered to a perch, from which she currently hung. The bat apparently didn't mind having her wing fully extended by Charlotte's caring hands. "It appears you have quite a way with Bella."

His voice made Charlotte jump, and she whipped her head around, but calmed when she saw him, "Oh, Professor Snape, you startled me! I'm sorry. Yes, she is quite lovely, and so well behaved! And she doesn't mind me at all."

"Miss LaRocque, have you considered entering the field of Magizoology?" Snape inquired, watching as Charlotte stroked Bella's furry body. "You seem to have an affinity for animals and magical creatures such as Bella here. I think you would fit in well."

"Really? I've always loved animals, since before I knew I was a witch," Charlotte smiled. She gently folded Bella's wing back to her body, and went to stroking her ears, which the bat clearly enjoyed, as the huge creature nearly started purring while it leaned into her hand.

"I can see your dedication and care in the way Bella plainly trusts you, only moments after your first encounter. I can help you with finding out more about this Magizoology field, if you are interested." Snape suggested, and Charlotte's excited nod clearly said yes.

She started to giggle. "Oh, Bella! That tickles!"

Snape couldn't help but smile when he saw the giant bat was nuzzling her, and licking her fingers in a very affectionate manner. "Very well. I shall leave her in your capable hands, as I have to retire to my office. Will you be all right in here alone?"

Charlotte nodded, "Oh, yes, I'll be fine. And I'll make sure Bella's safe when I leave, too." Snape left her with a nod, and a flourish of his robes.

He passed Draco, who was still sitting in his seat, a preoccupied look on his face. "You'd better make sure your face doesn't stay that way, boy." And with a frown on Draco's part, Snape left, having the last word.

Now that Draco was out of his reverie, he was all of a sudden wondering if Charlotte had wandered off. He felt strangely worried. He called, "Charlotte? Where are you?"

"Down here, Draco!" she called, from behind a half-drawn dark curtain.

He breathed a sigh of relief, and went down to where her voice came from. He was shocked to find her face-to-face with a giant bat. It was standing, (well, as good of a stance that a bat can do, on its thumbs and hind claws) on a platform, tethered to a big perch. Charlotte was admiring the way it stood, bringing her hand in towards its face.

"Don't do that! Bats bite, you know," he said, sounding all high-and-mighty.

Charlotte tossed her head, mimicking him, "Well, for your information, she doesn't bite me. Just watch…" she resumed bringing her hand close to Bella's scrunched up nose, and all the bat did was open her mouth to give Charlotte a small, affectionate lick on the back of the hand. Charlotte giggled, and Bella flapped a bit, so she landed on her perch, upside down. "Isn't she sweet?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Now, can we put her back? I don't want her to drink my blood. She is a Giant Vampire Bat, you know," Draco rubbed his arms, feigning shivers.

With an eye roll, Charlotte held her arm out to the bat. Without hesitation, the creature stepped onto her, using her feet to grasp gently, still hanging upside down. Charlotte eased the big bat into her cage, talking to her calmly as she did so. With a final goodbye, Charlotte shut the cage and drew the shade, wishing the Giant Vampire Bat a good afternoon nap in the dark.

When she finally followed Draco back up and out of the classroom, Draco asked her, "How is it that you are afraid of Death Eaters, but a Giant Bloodsucking Bat doesn't faze you at all? Anyone in the right mind would've left that thing alone."

"That's a silly question, Draco. Death Eaters pose an immediate threat to anyone they come upon, who bears them ill will or isn't 'pure' as they say. Animals, on the other hand, when shown a kind heart and a gentle hand, will show you no enmity or malice, treating you as one of their own. I'm simply nice to them, and not afraid of what's really a misunderstood, beautiful and unique creature."

"Beautiful? Did you see that _thing's_ face? Ha!" Draco laughed.

Charlotte didn't get upset, she simply said, "What if you were a bat?" when he bristled at this, she added, "Mind you, the most _attractive_ as far as bats go, but if some other species came by and said to you, 'Ha! You call that _thing_ beautiful? It looks like a monster. I bet it doesn't even have any good qualities!' What then?"

"Well, that's different. I wouldn't be the ugliest thing in the world. And what if I was the most interesting kind of bat that ever lived? How would they know?"

"Exactly. It's that kind of ignorance that gives rise to the evil present in our world, maybe even our school. But, I'm aware that many think it odd that I get along so well with animals, isn't it?" She asked him.

Draco nodded slightly, "I'm not gonna lie, it's a little weird," and to relieve her apparent unease, he continued, "but, I've never met anyone who could do that, and it's rather extraordinary."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it!" She smiled mischievously.

Draco smiled back, more amused by her brightening up than he wanted to be.

* * *

Later that day, their study session was nowhere near finished when the clock struck for dinner, so, the two brought their work to the Great Hall. Because Draco would never be seen anywhere near the Ravenclaw table, he convinced Charlotte to sit with him and continue helping him with his homework. As they worked, they couldn't help but overhear the loud conversation going on between Crabbe and Goyle across the table.

"…No, Asphodel is the best poison. Slip it into all their drinks; adds a little flavor, you know? Then wait and watch for the fun to begin." Goyle argued.

"Nuh-uh. Morticaine. It's so much better and does the job so much quicker!" rebutted Crabbe.

Before the two of them could argue any further, Charlotte interjected, having heard enough, "Do you two have any idea how long it would take to make either of those poisons?" When she had their full attention, she went on, "Asphodel, you'd think, is easy to come by, but in truth, it is a particularly rare plant, that only in the right mixture will cause death. And Morticaine itself is a very complex Potion, which takes six months to brew. My guess is everyone you want to take revenge on will be dead or long gone by the time those poisons were finished. If you're so set on destroying your enemies, as stupid as this whole argument is, simply purchase a bottle or flask filled with an already poisoned drink from the start and serve _that_, and be done with it. Now you wouldn't mind being a little more quiet, would you boys?"

They shook their heads, struck into a stunned silence.

"Thank you," she smiled, returning her attention to the papers in front of her, "Now, where were we, Draco?"

Draco looked at her, in shock. Where in the world had that little outburst come from? As much as he hated to admit it, he was really starting to like Charlotte more and more. That flare-up was rather…what was the word? Cute? _NO way_, Draco thought. He didn't think _anything_ was cute, but the more he looked at her, the more he wanted to burst out laughing, and have her laugh with him, and… _No! Snap out of it, Draco!_ He shook his head, and went back to focusing on his work.

* * *

After dinner, and after all his homework was figured out, Charlotte agreed to walk all the way to Slytherin. The trek to the house was strangely quiet, and when Draco asked if anything was wrong, Charlotte got a sheepish look on her face when she spoke, "Tell Crabbe and Goyle that I'm sorry for snapping at them, I don't know what got into me. It was just _such_ a stupid argument and I needed them to shut up."

Draco laughed, "Oh, don't worry about them, they deserved every word."

"If you say so." She sighed, "Well, good night, Draco."

"Hey," he caught her as she turned, and hesitantly added, "I take back what I said about the Giant Bat today. I was wrong."

"That's sweet of you," she grinned, "so sweet, I could kiss you!" Draco didn't know that was a figure of speech, and his heart skipped a beat, as he looked at her, confused.

Charlotte saw the odd look on his face, and laughed, "Draco, it's just an aphorism, a harmless expression. Calm down, I'm not going to kiss you. Now, go on, and watch out for those two friends of yours, they could've slipped you some poison-laced drinks at your bedside tonight."

"Ha ha. Night, Charlotte," he rolled his eyes, a wily half-smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

As she turned and walked in the direction of Ravenclaw, something hit Draco like a ton of bricks. An idea hatched in his head as he watched her brown hair bob as she walked down the corridor. Charlotte had just given him the perfect idea, without even knowing it.

It had come from that little outburst she had earlier that night. He was going to steal her suggestion: purchase some sort of bottled drink that appeared exotic and expensive, while actually being poisoned! He would buy it in Knockturn Alley, label it with Dumbledore's name, say it was a gift from an anonymous donor, and get a professor to deliver it—what a marvelous idea!

Draco was very pleased with himself, and with his deducting ability. As he turned back to look for her one more time to perhaps thank her, she was gone, and he wondered, _Perhaps if Charlotte knew what she'd inspired, I don't think she wouldn't be as happy as I am right now._ He sighed, and, shaking thoughts of her from his head, went up to his dormitory to plot his next attack on the headmaster.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

_Professor Slughorn—Please deliver this especially to Headmaster Albus Dumbledore as a token of gratitude for helping me with my education all those years ago and consequential success in the Wizarding World, and as a sign of the handsome donations that I aim to send in the near future. __Most appreciated, Anonymous_

That is what the note read, tied onto the bottle of poisoned wine Draco had planted in the professor's office, and he made sure that fingerprints or anything that could be traced back to him were erased. He made sure to specify on the note that the gift was meant only for Dumbledore, so he wouldn't hurt anyone else, or at least he made the effort not to… Now he just had to wait and see how the cards fell. If it worked, he would own up to its success. If it didn't, there would be nothing to lead suspecting parties to him. He was proud of himself, and his growing skill of obscurity.

* * *

The holidays were fast approaching, and he had been communicating with his mother a lot in the past few days, in planning the Malfoy Family Ball, working to get everything in order. He had a lot more on his plate this year, as his father was in prison, unable to help. After a long day of dealing with his mother's extensive letters, he sought out the company Charlotte.

He didn't find her in the study, but heard her voice not too far from it. She was sitting on a bench, and apparently having a conversation with herself. He walked up to her, slower than usual, slightly put off by her strange behavior. "Charlotte?" he asked, hesitant.

She turned, and waved at him as she continued the conversation. When she turned far enough, Draco saw she held a strange apparatus in her hand, up against her ear. He frowned, but went over and stood before her, crossing his arms in confusion as to what in the world she was doing.

"Yeah, that sounds good. Look, I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay? I gotta go, someone's waiting for me." She paused, smiled, and looked up at Draco as she continued, "It's no one. No, I'm not going to tell you about them right now. All right, you too, Mom, bye." She took the apparatus from her ear and hung it on a hook on the side of the wall.

"Hey Draco!" she greeted him, "What have you been up to?"

Draco simply asked, "What in the world were you doing just now?"

"Talking to my Mom. Why? Is something wrong?"

"No, I just… they have Floo Powder for that, and what was that _object_ you were holding up to the side of your face?" he spoke as though it repulsed him.

"What, you've never seen a phone before?" she asked him, a little incredulous.

"A _phone_? Of course I haven't! I don't have anyone that I need to contact with such a primitive means. Anyone worth contacting besides paying them a visit or by sending an owl I contact through Floo Powder." He sat down beside her.

She shrugged, "Well, let's just say my parents aren't the type that would use Floo Powder. I grew up without it, and I've never had a reason to use it."

"All right, if that's what you're used to, I just find it strange." He sighed, "I am so tired. I've been writing and reading letters to and from my Mother _all_ day."

"Holiday Ball Preparations?"

"Yes, and I'm starting to get so stressed out about it, and about the poi… about a lot of other stuff." He nearly told Charlotte about the poisoned wine he had sent Dumbledore, but caught himself. "I need to get my mind off of everything."

"Potions should do that adequately, wouldn't you say, my dear boy?" She smiled at his apparent disdain for doing his homework that dreary December afternoon. "Come on, I have all my stuff ready to go."

"Do we have to?" he moaned. "I just spent all day so far in my room. Can't we do something else first? Then I promise we can get to the homework."

"All right, Draco, what do you propose we do?" She stood, hands on her hips.

He shrugged, "I don't know."

"Of course you don't. Well, it's not snowing too hard, do you want to take a walk outside?" She suggested, "We can walk down to Black Lake, it's pretty with all the ice on it. What do you say?"

"Sure," he shrugged again, "I suppose some fresh air won't hurt."

He followed her outside, and they found it to be very pleasant. Light flakes of snow fell from the overcast sky, and the temperature was crisp, but not too cold. They conversed a bit as they went, and Draco suddenly began to feel a bit mischievous, his pent up energy threatening to bubble over.

He picked up a handful of snow, packing it into a ball. He slowed a bit, so Charlotte was ahead of him, wound up, and threw the snowball at her. It hit her square in the back, and she turned around, looking at him accusingly. He instantly assumed an innocent stance, looking all around, avoiding her gaze. When she turned back, he threw a couple more at her. This time, she stopped, reached down for a second, and turned on him.

"Draco, what was that for?" Charlotte accused him, hiding her hands.

"Just a bit of fun, is all. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, it's just I…" and she trailed off, and when he began to feel sorry, and his expression became apologetic, she launched a snowball that hit his arm. "Don't let your guard down in a snowball fight, my friend," she said, as she bent to form another one, not taking her eyes off him.

This started a flat-out snow battle, accompanied by laughter, playful taunting, and ended with Draco falling to the soft, white ground, driven there by Charlotte's unrelenting throws.

"All right! All right!" he called, surrendering to her attacks, "You win, Charlotte, I forfeit." She threw one last victory snowball, and flopped down onto the snow a few feet from Draco, laughing softly. He added, "I'll have you know, I've never lost a snowball fight, so this is quite a…" When she sat up and gave him a questioning look, knowing better, he conceded, "All right, I've never lost one to a girl."

She lay back down, with a sigh. "Isn't it beautiful? The snow is just drifting down lightly," she said, looking up at the sky.

"Uh, yeah, it is." He took a deep breath, and asked, "So, what were you talking to your mother about? On the…uh…"

"Phone? We were discussing my coming home, the Winter Holiday, as well as what I was wearing to the Ball you asked me to." She smiled to herself. Charlotte was getting very excited for the prestigious event.

"Really? You were? Have you found something to wear?"

"Yes, I have," She nodded.

Draco inquired, curious, "Well, um, what does it look like?"

"I'm not going to say. I want it to be a surprise when you see me that night." She giggled, imagining the look on Draco's face when he saw her in her gown. She hoped he wouldn't be disappointed.

Draco smiled at her obvious excitement about this Ball. They remained in the snow, staring up at the gray sky for a few minutes, when Charlotte broke the silence.

"Asleep over there?"

Draco retorted, sitting up, "No! How could anyone fall asleep outside?"

"I have," she said, standing up and stretching, "You should try it sometime. It's very peaceful, you feel like you're a part of nature. Now, come one, Draco, we haven't got all day." She walked over next to him, cocking her head to the side.

She held her hand out to him, and he grabbed it, as she helped him stand back up. "Fine. Let's go. I'm starting to get chilly anyhow."

When they got back to the study, Charlotte seemed distracted. She kept watching the clock, although she did help Draco as usual.

"What's wrong?" he asked, noticing her behavior, "You look as though you're going to run out of time."

"It's nothing," she shook her head.

"All right. Did I ask you about number fourteen yet? Something about it really confused me." Draco tried to draw her attention.

It worked, as she went right to work, explaining every little step in the process. She stopped acting so distracted, and when they finished, they began to just chat for fun, as per usual.

"So, you know some stuff about my family, what do your parents do for a living?" Draco asked, nonchalantly.

"Well, my father is a…" she trailed off, suddenly recalling something: the little episode a few weeks back when Draco had snapped at Hermione early one morning, switching to his normal self once he began talking to Charlotte. She became very reserved, but continued warily, "They don't do anything half as interesting as your parents."

"I don't care, I still want to know."

"Let me see. I suppose my father travels a lot on business, something to do with the medical industry, and my mother stays at home." Charlotte gauged her reply, so it wouldn't say anything too revealing.

"Ah, I see. That's a very venerable field, the medical one. You and your mother are close, then?" he was honestly interested.

"Yes, and my little brother. I talk to him sometimes, too."

"How old? Is he here? At Hogwarts?"

"He's six, not old enough to attend this school."

"Of course, of course. How is it that I've never heard of the LaRocque family before knowing you? My parents often are in discourse with members of the medical profession here in our illustrious Wizarding world." He flourished his hand.

"I suppose you could say my father is involved with the lower-class folk, not much dealings with bigger businesses." She laughed uneasily.

"That makes sense. I suppose my parents don't know every single Healer or Mediwizard in the world. When did your parents attend Hogwarts? Maybe my parents would recognize their names?" he squinted his eyes, thinking.

Charlotte looked up at him, trying to hide her evident apprehension, and instead replied, "I'm really not sure. Look, Draco, I've got to get going. I'm really sorry, but… I'm almost late!" She glanced at her watch, and her breath caught, "I'll see you tomorrow in class, all right? Good-bye!"

"Bye, Charlotte." As she basically raced out, Draco watched her with a confused frown, waving halfheartedly as she shut the door. "Was it something I said? I thought we were having a nice conversation." He stood, grabbed his materials, and wandered back to the Great Hall, to waste time with his cronies.

When Draco caught a glimpse of Hermione Granger walking past the Slytherin table he got her attention, almost yelling, "Granger!"

"What? What is it you could possibly want?" she huffed, slamming her books down in front of him.

"Do you know where Miss LaRocque is? She promised to help me study, but she ran off." Draco spoke in a particularly unkind tone, as he had no reason whatsoever to be nice to her- especially not now, what with his new role as a Death Eater.

Hermione sighed, "Charlotte? She had an appointment with someone in Hogsmeade, about some opportunity in the summer. Why do you want to know? Want to make fun of her, too?"

He didn't catch the last part of her statement as he interrupted her, "Hogsmeade? When was it?"

"Seven-thirty, I believe."

"You can't be serious. She left only ten minutes ago, and it's seven thirty now! It takes at least an hour to get there! That doesn't make sense." He frowned, accusing her of lying.

She shrugged, "I don't make the news, I just tell it. Frankly, I think you deserved to be blown off, you're such a snob." She started leaving.

"Don't say things like that, Mudblood," Draco growled.

She rounded on him, "And why not? You're just a foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach. There isn't a thing you can do against me." She raised her wand, and Draco couldn't help but cower slightly and start to whimper, he knew that she was capable than much more magic than he could ever harness. She narrowed her eyes, and walked off complacently.

Draco looked around hurriedly, afraid that someone had heard that exchange, and seen how it had gone. Sufficiently relieved, he went back to messing around with little charms, conjuring little sparks to singe to those he loathed. All the while he contemplated: how could someone like Charlotte, a common witch, have gotten to Hogsmeade Village in less than ten minutes? The only way he could think of was Apparating and Floo Powder. The odd thing was, Charlotte had never touched Floo Powder, and had told him herself how jealous she was that he was able to Apparate when she couldn't. He sighed, and shook his head; he'd ask her about it later.

* * *

The next day, in Potions, he sat next to Charlotte. Her apparent shyness had faded, and she looked energized. "Good morning, Draco! How are you doing?"

"I'm fine. And yourself? How was your…appointment?" he looked at her skeptically.

"Oh, that? It went really well. Very successful. I'll tell you all about it later." She was all smiles this morning, and Draco wasn't sure why. "Did you have a good night last night?"

Draco smirked, "I suppose you could say that."

"I don't like that look, Draco. What were you up to?"

"Nothing, just common mischief," he straightened his shoulders.

Before Charlotte could do anything more than elbow him good-naturedly, class started. All she could do was give him a mildly scolding look, trying her best not to smile.

* * *

"What? You're leaving?" It was that very evening, a Friday, that Charlotte announced her brief departure.

"For the weekend. I'm visiting my parents and some extended family," she explained, as she crammed the last of her things in her suitcase. "But I'll be back on Sunday night, I promise!"

"But, why?" He asked her, pleading, "What about my homework? Why do you have to go and desert me right now, with winter exams so close!"

"I'm not abandoning you, and it'll do you some good, to practice your spells and such on your own. Don't worry, I'll be back in a few days, and I'll help save you from drowning in all the homework you haven't done. Deal?" she held her hand out in a gesture of promise, and he shook it, agreeing. She continued, "But seriously, you need to do some of it while I'm gone, so we don't pull an all-nighter. I need you to promise me."

He unwillingly agreed, but his attention was diverted slightly.

Practically reading his mind, Charlotte added, "And don't you go snooping around the Slug Club. I know they have some big thing this weekend, but don't get involved, it'll only spell trouble."

He sighed vocally, but unenthusiastically nodded.

"Good! Well, I'm off. See you Sunday!" She waved pleasantly, but at seeing his upset look, she assured him, "Oh, Draco, you'll survive. You'll thank me for this later, I just know it."

"All right," he conceded, wishing her a good trip.

The moment she was gone, Draco went to go occupy his time doing his homework. He got some of it done, but he began to get stir crazy by the time one and a half subjects were done. He went for a walk to clear his head, sitting down near a window, and heard Luna Lovegood's airy, whimsical voice. Draco listened, and soon she was in view, walking down the hall, wearing a ridiculous dress that looked as though it was made of shiny plastic ruffles. And what was even more interesting was that she was walking with Harry Potter, who was also dressed "well", for a commoner's standards, that is. He overheard part of their conversation.

"I've never been to this part of the castle, at least while awake. I sleepwalk, you see. That's why I wear shoes to bed," she mused.

"Are you sure you're all right going with me tonight? As friends, I mean," Harry asked, unsure, maybe even a little bit awkwardly. It was evident she wasn't his first choice of a date.

She replied after a moment of staring at the space above their heads, "Of course not. You're a good friend, Harry; I won't let you go to a holiday party alone. I only hope you'll have fun with me there, too."

From this little exchange, Draco deducted that they were going to the Slug Club Christmas party. He hesitated, when usually he'd sneak in without a second thought. Charlotte's warning replayed in his mind, and he wondered if she was right. He sighed, wondering what was happening to his devious personality. _She's changing you, and you don't want to admit it_, his conscience whispered. Another voice answered, _What happened to the old, troublemaking Draco we knew and loved to hate? He would go to that party no matter what anyone said. And you might gain some valuable information about Potter, or more importantly, Dumbledore…_

Draco shushed his inner dialogue, and, to reassure himself that he could still act however he wanted, no matter what Charlotte— more accurately, no matter what anyone said, he decided that he would be gate crashing the blasted Slug Club Christmas Party. He knew he wouldn't get caught, much less get in trouble. He followed Harry and Luna, but at a distance, and when they entered the party, he waited for an opportune time, searching for perhaps an alternate entrance. He went into a corridor he knew would eventually lead to Slughorn's quarters. He looked about, making sure he was alone. Unfortunately, he didn't see there was another pair of eyes watching him, too.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Draco slunk down the hallway, careful not to make a sound. He approached a door he knew led to Slughorn's office, as he had been there not too long ago to plant the poisoned wine on his desk. As he picked the lock with an unspoken spell, and started to open the door, he heard a soft noise. He froze, listening in case it started again. He turned the knob, and there it was again. An annoying, whiny meow, and when he looked over his shoulder, a longhaired dark tabby cat had her eyes on him.

Draco recognized it as Filch's cat and said, "Go away, you stupid thing! I don't want anyone to know I'm here!" He shooed the cat, but it only got louder. He crept into the corridor, unfortunately not closing the door all the way in his haste. He walked down the hall, reminding himself where each turn in the hall led. He wasn't paying attention to what was behind him, his mind on other matters.

Finally, he heard footsteps behind him, and began to walk faster, almost forgetting where he was going. He found the door he needed, and when he turned the knob, it was locked! He panicked, trying to unlock it. "Alohamora!" he muttered. It jerked, but didn't unlock. "Blast! It unlocked last time!" The footsteps got louder, and Draco looked for an escape. He jumped to the other side of the hall, into a dark passageway, and hid in the shadows, holding his breath.

Within a few seconds, he heard Argus Filch, the groundskeeper appeared, passing in front of Draco. Luckily, he was in the shadow, so he wasn't seen. When the footsteps faded, Draco went back to the fussy doorknob. He tried again to open it, talking louder, "Alohamora!" Filch's cat approached Draco, meowing indicatively, calling attention to the intruder. Draco didn't start running in time.

As he tried to escape, he felt a strong grip on his arm. "Going somewhere, boy?" Filch nearly growled.

Draco tried to wrench his arm from the strong hand, but without avail, "Let go of me! I was invited to Slughorn's party, and I got locked out. I was only trying to get in!"

"Were you now? Skulking around in a corridor leading to his office? We'll see what Slughorn thinks of this." Filch pulled him along, leading him into the door Draco was so furiously trying to open. He saw some tacky decorations and heard casual voices Filch burst into the room, the groundskeeper practically dragging Draco along by his shoulder.

"Take your hands off me, you filthy squib!" Draco protested, angrily.

"Professor Slughorn, sir," Filch announced, a little pride in his voice, "I just discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to have been invited to your party."

"Okay, okay, I was gate-crashing! Happy?" Draco retorted, shrugging forcefully out of Filch's grasp.

"That's quite all right, dear boy, stay a while! It's a holiday party, you're more than welcome, I…" Slughorn began, but when he caught Snape's refuting glance, he faltered.

Snape was the next one to speak, coolly, to Draco, "I shall escort him out. I need to have a word with the boy."

Draco looked back at Snape with disdain, "Certainly, professor."

Draco walked purposefully out of the party, tired and thoroughly embarrassed, but not about to show it, Snape following right behind him. The minute they were a safe distance from the party, Snape glanced around, making sure they were alone, and pulled Draco aside in an urgent manner.

"What are you doing?" Draco demanded, startled and more than a little irritated.

"The cursed necklace was you, wasn't it?"

"And if it was? What of it?"

"You have to be more careful. Once Granger, Weasley, and Potter accused you, McGonagall began to suspect. It took a lot to get her off your trail, to make it seem like you weren't a likely suspect. Make wiser choices in the future, if you're capable of it."

"Shut up! I'm doing fine. Now can you leave me be?" he retorted, squirming a bit. Snape held fast.

"Listen to me, Draco. I am trying to help you. I made a promise to your Mother, I swore to her that I would protect you." He paused, and added, "I made the Unbreakable Vow. And your recklessness is making my job very difficult."

"Looks like you'll have to break it then, because I don't need your protection! It's my job, He gave it to me, and I'm doing it. I've got a plan, and it's going to work. It's just taking a bit longer than I thought it would, that's all!" Draco snapped.

"Why won't you let me help you?"

"I don't need anyone's help, especially not yours! Leave me alone."

"You're being reckless, denying the help of someone so close to the headmaster." Snape shook his head, "No better than a little child, trying to make up for his father's mistakes that landed him in Azkaban."

"Don't you say a thing against my father, you stupid Half-Blood!" Draco pushed Snape backwards, causing him to stumble. Draco stormed off, leaving Snape alone in the hallway.

Draco was rather upset. What Snape had said made him furious. He was doing his best to get rid of the Headmaster, wasn't he? Well, he couldn't do anything right then, he'd heard recently that Dumbledore wasn't even at Hogwarts at the moment.

He walked quickly away from Snape, not entirely paying attention to where he was going. He eventually ended up in the study he and Charlotte used on a nightly basis. He sighed, collapsing on the couch. He felt so angry and stressed; he'd been embarrassed in front of a crowd he desperately wanted to get into, and Snape made him feel inept in the duties the Dark Lord had bestowed upon him. He wanted to feel better, but he was at a loss as to how.

He stuck his hands in his pockets, mulling over it all in silence. He felt his hand close around something small in his left pocket, a piece of paper, and when he brought it out, there was a series of numbers on it, along with a few words. He smoothed it out, and held it up so he could better examine it. It read:

'Draco, if I'm ever gone, and you ever need to call me to talk about anything, I'm here. No matter what. Here's my number at home, and how to call…' and it went on to give a series of eleven digits, and basic instructions on how to use a phone and who to ask for if he called. Draco felt a little ray of hope. He had someone to vent to, who would make him feel better. He decided to find this "telephone" and attempt to call Charlotte. It wasn't too late in the evening, only 7:30. He found it, looked around to make sure he wasn't seen using this contraption, and read her directions one more time.

* * *

Meanwhile, at Charlotte's humble abode a few hundred miles away, there was quite a lot going on. Charlotte was in the kitchen, helping her mother, Grace LaRocque, put away dishes. With everything in its proper place, she went to go amuse her cousins, visiting for the weekend.

Five little voices called her name, and she went to sit on the living room floor with them. "Hey guys! Did you like dinner?"

"Yes! Now can we do something fun?" A little girl with light blonde hair was asking, eagerly.

Charlotte smiled, "Of course we can! What shall we do, _mes amours _?"

They begged her to show them some more magic. Charlotte entertained them with a few little charms, conjuring little enchanted tops and things that spun and moved on their own. They all were in awe, wishing they could do as much as she could. "Maybe when you're older," she'd reassure them, an empty promise. Soon, Charlotte's grandmother, a caring woman who always had a smile on her face, told the children it was now time for them to go to bed. They reluctantly consented, and hugged their big cousin good night. It was at that moment that the phone rang.

It was Charlotte's mother that picked up the phone, "Hello? LaRocque residence." She paused, a strange look crossing her face, "Uh, sure, hold on a moment." She called Charlotte, "There's someone on the phone for you, Charlotte, and he seems rather confused."

"What?" She took the phone from her mother, "Hello?"

There was a pause, then a voice said from the other line, "Charlotte? Did I get this phone thing right?"

She laughed, "Draco? Yes, you did." Charlotte caught her mother's eye, and the woman raised an eyebrow curiously, mouthing, "Draco?" Charlotte frowned and waved a dismissive hand at her mother.

"Hey, don't laugh at me! I've never used one of these before. Do you have a minute? I want to vent… and talk to you." Draco sounded a little reluctant.

Charlotte changed her tone to one of concern. "Sure, what's going on?" She listened, and interjected jokingly, "Great. I'm not even gone 24 hours and you already get yourself into trouble… Oh, hush, I am not. Then what?" She sat down, and listened as he told her of his trouble. He left out the part about the Unbreakable Vow and his important task, but he did mention his unsuccessful crashing of the party, and Snape's reprimanding of him and bringing up of his father. At the end of his rant, she said, "That sounds tough. What are you up to now? Feeling any better?"

They talked for a bit more, and when Draco decided he felt much better, he said he'd let her go. "Are you sure?" Charlotte asked.

On the other line, Draco sounded calmer, but also very tired. "Yes, I'm finished. Thanks, um, for listening."

She heard him yawn and smiled to herself, "No problem, Draco. Anytime. You sound exhausted. Time for bed?"

"I suppose," he sighed, "Remind me, when will you be back?"

"Sunday. Now keep on with the homework so we're not working all night." She glanced absently out the window at the slowly falling snow.

"Fine. Wish your great-aunt or whoever a happy birthday for me. Good night, Charlotte," He yawned again.

She rolled her eyes, "If you mean my grandmother, then I surely will. Now go to your dormitory before you fall asleep on the phone!"

"I'm not that tired!" she could practically see him frowning as he whined.

She sighed, "If you say so, Draco. Good night, and see you on Sunday. Now you can hang up, if you're done talking."

"Okay, bye Charlotte."

Once they both hung up, she went back to the living room, where her mother and grandmother were chatting. They looked up when she entered, and Charlotte's grandmother was the first to speak. "Who was that, dear?" she asked congenially.

"Draco, a friend of mine. He wishes you a Happy Birthday, Grandma."

"What's this boy like? Is he the one who asked you to the Ball?" Charlotte's mother asked, ever so curious.

Charlotte sat down, a little embarrassed by all the sudden attention. "He's in Slytherin house at Hogwarts, and he's a good friend. Kind of a tough guy, but I see right through that façade, and I think…" she caught her mother looking at her suggestively, and added, "No, Mother, it's not like that. We're just friends. I was nice to him, started helping him out with his homework, and we became friends. That is it, and there's nothing else."

"For now…" Mrs. LaRocque teased.

"Oh, Gracie, leave her be," Charlotte's grandmother gently chided her only daughter, "I think it was lovely of that boy to ask you to the Ball, Charlotte, what with your being such a good friend to him. He obviously trusts you, to call you when he's having a tough day, to have you cheer him up. Now, shall we continue discussing the progress on your dress, my dear?"

"Yes, let's!" Charlotte nodded excitedly. She purposely failed to tell Draco that one of the reasons she was going home was to get fitted for the dress her mother and grandmother were making for her, by hand.

* * *

Once Draco hung up the telephone, he looked at it, amazed that it could work so well, and without a bit of magic –or at least, with no magic he was familiar with. He stood, stretched, and went back to his dormitory. He realized he felt much better after talking to Charlotte, and how grateful he was that she was there. If she hadn't been there, he probably would've gone and done something rash and gotten himself into more trouble. The knowledge that Charlotte was there, the fact that she would listen to his problems and try to help him no matter what, gave him a feeling of solace.

He was reminded of what Snape told him, and began to feel angry again, but calmed down when he knew that Charlotte was only a phone call away, to support him if he needed. The amount of stress on him was growing, but he felt as though having Charlotte there with him would make it more bearable.

* * *

When Charlotte returned, Draco was waiting for her at the train station. He pretended to be preoccupied, yelling at a station-worker about some part of the station that he found less than adequate. Charlotte stepped off the train, and when she saw him there, scolding the poor man for something he didn't have any control over, she just laughed.

Draco heard her, and instantly stopped yelling. He stood up straight, attempting to keep his nonchalant expression.

"Draco? Is that you?" she spoke cheerily, and when he turned to face her, his normally aloof expression was back, and she could only smile. She continued, "You came to meet me here?"

Draco had to try very hard not to smile back (as her expression was sweet, and he found the way her brown hair was woven into braids around her head to be rather cute), and replied, "I merely had business to take care of here, I had no idea you'd be here." He took a breath, trying to figure out what to say, and finally added, "Shall we, um, get back to school?"

"Your business is finished here?" she raised an eyebrow.

He became flustered, "Yes, well, um, it's quite finished. Shall we go?"

Upon returning to the school, Charlotte helped Draco with his remaining homework, which to her surprise, wasn't as much as she expected. Draco walked with Charlotte to Ravenclaw house commons, as she told him of her cousins' antics.

"They are so sweet, and are so amused when I conjure the littlest things!" She paused, "Was the rest of your weekend all right? No more drama?"

"Yes, it was much better. I was productive, but I can't promise I didn't stir up some mischief here and there." He smirked to himself, pleased.

She rolled her eyes, "I should expect nothing less, I suppose." They had nearly reached the portrait doorway into Ravenclaw, so Draco slowed and she said, "Until tomorrow, then, Draco!"

"Yeah, see you." She went inside, and Draco turned to leave, but as he wasn't as tired as Charlotte appeared to be, he wanted to take a stroll to clear his head. He effectively snuck out of the castle without being detected, and wandered down to the Forbidden Forest.

As he walked, he heard some rustling and heavy footfalls in the trees near him. He brought his wand out, and held it at the ready. He searched for a way out of the forest, but he saw thick forest on every side. Suddenly, a towering centaur appeared out of the dark in front of him, wielding a bow and sharp arrows, a sentry on either side of him, drawn bows in their hands as well.

"What do you want?" Draco demanded, startled, and feigning confidence.

"You and your friends have been killing my kind: all of you with that mark of death on your arms—but none so much as the man with the eyes and face of a snake. You share that mark, human, and you shall pay for what your friends have done."

"What? But that wasn't me! I've never killed a centaur-I didn't even know there were centaurs in the forest!" he cowered, afraid for his life.

The centaur ignored him, and began to draw his bow. Draco shut his eyes, and waited for the sting of the arrow, but it never came. Draco slowly reopened his eyes, and saw a magnificent horse standing between him and the menacing centaurs. It had arched its neck and pinned its ears to its head, snorting angrily, almost protectively. The centaurs hesitated, as if they were contemplating something. The horse then shook its mane, lowered its head, and pawed the ground, threateningly.

The lead centaur lowered his bow, "You're lucky this mare was here to protect you. If she hadn't appeared and made your purpose known to us, you wouldn't have been able to leave this glen. Until we meet again, human." The three centaurs retreated to the depths of the forest once again.

Draco stood up slowly, and watched the horse cautiously. It turned to face him, and walked straight up to him. He noticed its russet brown fur shone in the moonlight, and the lone star on its forehead stood out in a very striking way. The horse nudged his side, pushing him in one direction. "Hey now! Quit it, you stupid animal!" he snapped. At his comment, the horse pinned its ears and pushed him harder. After a few more nudges, Draco realized the horse was leading him out of the forest.

He ended up right outside the forest, Hogwarts castle in plain view. The horse then bobbed its head, snorted impatiently, and trotted back the way it came. Draco sat down in the snow, sighing, suddenly tired. He was also rather befuddled. Why did that horse come to his rescue? It was as if it possessed a certain amount of human-ness in its actions and reactions, more so than any horse he'd ever encountered. He buried his face in his hands, rather confused.

Moments later, he heard someone approaching. Panicked, he looked up. Emerging from the Forbidden Forest was Charlotte, clad in the outfit he'd left her in only a bit ago, Ravenclaw scarf and all, her braided hair let out into wavy locks that shifted lightly in the breeze.

"Draco," she scolded, "you have to be more careful when you go into the Forbidden Forest at night!" She was a little short of breath, and when she reached him, she folded her arms, accusingly.

Her sudden presence puzzled him. Instead of replying, he stood, looked over her shoulder, and examined the trail of her footprints. He couldn't help but notice they led from the Forbidden Forest, and a few feet from the edge of the forest, the prints made by her boots became hoof prints. All he could do was look from Charlotte to the Forbidden Forest and back, in utter bewilderment.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"It isn't that difficult of a concept, Draco," Charlotte ran her hand through her hair, amused at his abject cluelessness, "It's like Transfiguration, but at will, and without any spells. It's called being an Animagus."

"Well, that's all very fine and dandy, but explain to me, Charlotte, how minutes after my near-death experience, you appear?" Draco was more than a little puzzled.

Charlotte laughed, "Think about it. Remember that meeting I had in Hogsmeade, and how I made an hour's journey in less than 15 minutes?" When his expression was still uncertain, she added, "Draco, what animal is my Patronus?"

"A horse, everyone knows that…" then a metaphorical light bulb went on in his head, and he said, "Ohh… you're an Animagus, and your animal is a Horse. Now it makes sense!"

She nodded, "That's right. A registered Horse Animagus, one of the first underage witches to master it!" She got back to the subject, frowning, "But honestly, Draco, had I not been grazing nearby, you'd be dead, or very nearly dead. The Forbidden Forest is not the place for a leisurely evening walk, no matter how invincible you think you are."

"I would've been fine, I was merely…" he trailed off, failing to defend himself.

"Cowering. Waiting for the deathblow from the centaurs. Seriously, if you'd died, I don't know what I… what your family would do." Charlotte faltered a bit, and cleared her throat.

Draco caught that little slip of the tongue, and it made him think. He almost started responding, but Charlotte continued, cutting him off.

"But you better thank your lucky stars that I was in the vicinity. If I'd been even the tiniest bit farther away… And imagine if the centaurs weren't so kind to fellow 'creatures of the forest', and they'd… ugh, I don't even want to think about it. I can't believe I put my life on the line to get you out of there safely. You owe me, Draco." Charlotte had calmed down a bit, and looked up at the stars, inhaling the crisp December night air.

"Can we go back to the school now? I am emotionally and physically spent," he whined, "And now I'm going to get in trouble for being out after curfew!"

Charlotte shook her head, "No, you won't. I'll come with you, and explain the episode with the centaurs if I have to. I can easily distract the teachers."

They walked into the front doors, and there were Professors Trelawney and McGonagall, talking quietly to one another. They caught sight of the two, but Charlotte merely nodded amiably, accompanied by a friendly "Good evening, Professors." The two witches let them pass without another thought, continuing with their conversation.

"What was that? They didn't care at all!" Draco exclaimed, when they were out of earshot. "How is it that when I sneak out by myself and get caught, I get in huge trouble, but when I come in with you, through the front entrance, I don't even get a single suspicious glance?"

"I don't know, maybe they were busy. Although they are aware that I'm an Animagus, so I suppose they understand I need to stretch my long legs every once in a while." She shrugged, casually.

Draco, on the other hand, was quite impressed. She could get away with murder if she wanted to, but her principles restricted her to a mere nightly canter around the school grounds when she felt like it. If he had that kind of freedom, Draco wouldn't be so sparing with it. Her self-discipline rather awed him. This time, after one final brief scolding of Draco's restlessness, Charlotte bid him a friendly goodnight, and they both retired to bed, a lot on their minds, and rather tired.

* * *

The End-of-Term exams were only days away, so Draco and Charlotte studied extra hard. They did, however, set aside an bit of free time each night when they ate dinner in the Great Hall, usually together, and took a walk, amused themselves with random spells in their study, or just talked.

One night, Draco asked her at dinner, "Does anyone else know of your being an Animagus? I mean, I found out by accident, but what about your, um, friends?"

"Besides the professors and my parents, no one. We're not supposed to flaunt it." She laughed, "Even so, I am glad that you know, Draco. I don't like keeping secrets, if I can help it. I'm not sure why, but I feel less restricted around you." Draco almost replied that he felt the same way around her, but decided against it, fearing what she'd say. She shook her hair out, reminding him of how she acted as a horse. There were a lot of parallels between Charlotte and her animal form, and he found each one rather endearing.

"Do you think you're ready for your mid-year exams?" Draco asked, halfheartedly.

"I think so, yes, at least I hope so. What about you? Do you think all this studying is doing you any good?" Charlotte looked at him curiously.

He sighed with desperation, "I don't know! I can't tell if I'm learning anything."

"Well," Charlotte tried to assuage him, "you are remembering things quicker and more thoroughly than you think. I think you're going to be fine. Besides, they start tomorrow, there isn't anything more we can cram into your brain."

Draco hung his head, "Tomorrow? Ugh, I'm going to fail miserably, and my mother is going to yell at me for it."

"You will be fine. Trust me." She tried to placate him. She kept on, "Draco. Look at me."

He looked at her, into her dark brown eyes, and found he felt better. He finally said, "What is it? What could you possibly say to make this less stressful?"

"Don't worry so much. You know far more than you give yourself credit for." Charlotte smiled genuinely. Draco couldn't help the fact that he smiled back. It was a small smile, but he smiled despite his worry.

The next morning was the big Potions exam, and before it even began, Draco was a mess. "I've forgotten everything!" he muttered to himself, worrying. He tried to calm down, but couldn't gather his thoughts. While he fretted, he didn't notice Charlotte sit next to him in her usual spot.

"Hello? Earth to Draco…" She rolled her eyes, and snapped her fingers, "Malfoy!"

He turned to her, startled.

"Just keep in mind our study sessions, and the potions we made successfully. Take a deep breath, calm yourself, and you'll be okay. And no cheating off my paper, I want you to earn your own score."

At this, he frowned, but nodded slowly, disappointed.

The exam was passed out. After a deep breath, he began the exam, and, although he was very tempted, resisted the desire to cheat off of Charlotte's probably perfect test. He made it through, albeit a bit slower. When he finished, Charlotte was waiting for him outside the classroom.

"Well? Did you survive?" Charlotte asked, feigning concern.

Draco responded haughtily, "Of course I did, silly girl. Why would I ever worry about passing a stupid test?" He spoke as though he was never nervous, and Charlotte shook her head, laughing to herself.

The rest of the week, there were exams in most classes, as a progress marker for professors at the halfway point of the year. Whenever there wasn't a test, it seemed like Draco and Charlotte spent every spare moment together, studying for the next test. When the last one was finished for both of them, they decided to spend some time just relaxing in Charlotte's study.

"Tell me, Draco," Charlotte began, "What all goes into organizing and putting on this annual Malfoy Holiday Ball?"

"Well," he began, "You have to start with the guest list, and anyone who's anyone important to our family is added without a second thought, as well as business partners or members of groups the Malfoy family is a part of. Then we must choose a theme for the Ball, and decide how to make it look immaculate…" Draco continued to tell her of all that it entailed, but in a condensed style, as some of the details bored even himself, despite his important role in the process this year.

When he finished, Charlotte looked as though she had something to say, but was hesitant. Draco saw this, and asked her, frowning, "What is it? You have something on your mind, don't you? So say it."

"It's nothing, nothing at all. Don't worry about it," she avoided replying, but Draco persisted.

"No, I will not be left in the dark. Tell me, Charlotte, before I go mad with not knowing." He attempted to hide his curiosity with a brusque reply, but she merely smiled at his tone of voice.

She sighed, and spoke, "I was just wondering, why did you ask me to the Ball? I mean, I'm more than excited to go with you, but I'm curious: why did you pick me? You could probably ask any girl you wanted, but you chose to ask me."

Draco didn't know how to reply to her inquiry. He tried to analyze his feelings, organize his thoughts, figure out how to answer her honestly without sounding like a blubbering idiot. He looked at his hands, and finally replied, "Because you're actually nice to me, and you seem to accept me for who I am, even with all my discourtesy, and cold mannerisms. I guess you could say you're my only real friend. To be perfectly honest, I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather ask. But don't go thinking I've gone soft or anything! After all, I'm still the most feared 6th year Slytherin in Hogwarts, and I have a reputation to uphold." He recovered, putting on a haughty expression, one he usually wore.

Charlotte's reaction was one of silence, a pleased silence. She was rather amused by his façade, and knew that she was the only one who frequently caught a glimpse of the real Draco, the one hidden beneath the cocky, cold exterior. She was seeing this true side of him more and more in the recent weeks, and she was strangely very happy. She didn't want to admit it to him, or to herself, but she was really starting to like this boy.

* * *

The next day was the first day of Winter Break. They took the Hogwarts Express train back to the station in London. Draco told Charlotte he needed to ride with Crabbe and Goyle, and she consented without question. Draco looked worried that she'd be alone, but when she assured him she was fine, he nodded, pulled his sleeve down, and left for the back of the train.

Charlotte smiled at him as he walked purposefully down the hallway. Why he was so worried about her was beyond him. Draco went to the back of the train, and sat next to his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.

"I see you survived your tests, Malfoy." Crabbe spoke evenly.

Draco snapped back, "Of course I did. What about you two? Any failures?"

"No, but I got rather close," Goyle shrugged. He continued, "Where've you been, by the way? We've missed seeing you around. What have you been doing all week?"

"Studying, for a change, and I think I did rather well this year. I may pass the N.E.W.T.s my parents require of me." Draco mused, rather pleased with himself.

"But you shouldn't be wasting time studying, should you?" Goyle raised an eyebrow. "Word on the street is you have a far more important thing you should be worrying about. Something to do with offing the headmaster?"

"Who told you?" Draco narrowed his eyes.

"Our parents sent us owls ages ago about the charge You-Know-Who left you to do. How's that going, by the way?" Crabbe asked, a little snobbishly.

"It's going fine. Just a little more complicated than I assumed." Draco scoffed. "The Killing Curse is far more difficult to master than you would think."

"All right, fine. But I feel like you're making this harder than it really is," Crabbe stretched in his seat, a little impatient.

Draco stood up, slamming his hands on the table between their booth seats, "If you think you can do a better job, you buffoons, then go right ahead! I'm having no problem doing it, but if you want to steal the job from me and anger the Dark Lord, then that's up to you. And you want to become one of us, don't you two? Learn your place, then you'll earn your Dark Mark."

The two became complacent at the mention of angering the Dark Lord, and became as submissive as normal, "Sorry, mate." "You're doing well, actually." "Better than I could ever do."

"That's better," Draco crossed his arms, content. He looked out the window, falling deeper into thought. It took the two dolts a few tries to get him back to reality.

"Malfoy!" Crabbe finally spoke rather loudly, and Draco looked at him disdainfully.

"What!" he snapped. "You interrupted me going over my plan. What do you want?"

"I just asked you a question. I've been hearing you've got a date for the ball, and she's quite a beauty." He gave Goyle a suggestive look, elbowing him as they chuckled to themselves.

Goyle added, winking "Yes, a veritable fox, according to the rumor mill, and a trollop, at that."

Draco instantly responded, "Not a fox, she's a horse." At their utterly confused looks, he shook his head, "Never mind. Yes, I do have someone to escort to the event. And she is most definitely not a trollop! I wouldn't be seen anywhere near someone so vile."

"But I've heard she's a looker. A real dolly bird!"

"Who even uses that expression anymore, you simpleton?" Draco narrowed his eyes at Goyle. "But I suppose she is pretty… Oh, never mind that! Either way, she is a smart, well-rounded girl, with amazing abilities in magic. She's actually helping me to do better in my classes."

"You don't mean that silly girl you always study with, do you?"

"Why? What's it to you? Shouldn't I be entitled to impress my parents by choosing a smart girl instead of the halfwits you'll most likely choose? If you can even get dates, that is," he sneered, and his remark shut the two boys up.

The rest of the ride was filled with idle conversation, and soon, the train arrived. Draco retrieved his luggage from the baggage car, and found Charlotte was there, too. She simply smiled at him, and grabbed her suitcase. He failed to suppress the blush that crept over his face, and the returning smile. Draco couldn't disregard the little flutter in his stomach when she smiled at him so pleasantly. She went to greet two people, who he assumed to be her parents. She embraced them, and started talking. Her hand suddenly shot to her mouth, as if she'd forgotten something.

Draco sighed, and turned to go in the opposite direction, leaving Charlotte to spend time with her loving family. He glanced about the station only halfheartedly, as he expected no one to come to meet him. He looked about, frowning, when he felt a hand gently grab his. He turned, a frown still on his face, but his expression relaxed when he found Charlotte was there.

"Um, Draco? I forgot to ask you, how am I to get to the Ball on Saturday evening? I'm not sure where you live, and if I need to have someone drive me, that's fine, I just need you to let me know as soon as you can." She was speaking very quickly, her excitement evident, and her eyes glinted in anticipation of the details.

He set his suitcase down and said, amused, "Charlotte, calm down. I will send transportation at promptly 5 o'clock this Saturday evening to arrive at your house and take you to my home. Be ready to go by then. All right? Everything will be fine. Just leave it all to me." He tried to appear calm, but the way she was holding his hand, as if for support, made him feel rather nervous.

"Okay," she said, smiling, "So I will see you on Saturday evening, then?" Draco nodded, smiling in return. "Wonderful! See you Saturday, _mon cher_!" She gave his hand one final squeeze, and waved goodbye to him as she ran back to her parents and filled them in.

Draco smiled to himself, secretly very pleased at her excitement for the weekend's event. He left, found no one outside awaiting him, and sighed, shaking his head. Draco smiled to himself, _I can't wait to see her again. I hope she enjoys the Ball!_ And his conscience spoke up, '_Well now, Draco, what have we here? Excited to see someone, and a girl, no less! And she's very close to you, is she not?' _Draco frowned, _I suppose. I'm not very familiar with such matters as friendship, but I rather enjoy her company, and she enjoys mine. So I hope, anyway._ His conscience added one final note, _'Sure, boy, she enjoys your company now, but if she ever found out what you are—a Death Eater, something she dreadfully fears—would she want to be around you anymore? What would you do then?'_

The thought haunted him, and he pulled his sleeve up, looking over his Dark Mark pensively. What would Charlotte say if she saw what he really was? He shook the thought from his head, and Disapparated, reappearing at the front doors of his huge home, Malfoy Manor. He was greeted by the hustle and bustle of putting up of the final decorations, as well as the sinister laughter of his mother's sister echoing through the halls. He shuddered at her laughter, but took a moment to collect his thoughts, and joined his aunt and mother in the parlor, to finalize details for the Ball.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

"Where is she, Draco? You'd better not have made this girl up." Narcissa Malfoy was getting increasingly irritated as the time for the ball to begin drew closer. Many other guests had arrived, and Draco was still without his date.

"Of course I didn't make her up, Mother. That would be ridiculous. Besides, she'll be here." Draco retorted, although he was feeling exponentially more nervous with each passing moment. "She promised she'd be here," he mumbled to himself. He straightened his tuxedo for the umpteenth time, and went to stand by the door once again, to watch eagerly for her arrival.

Winged horse-drawn carriages, Apparitions, and other forms of transportation brought guests after guests, and he greeted them all with a nod as they entered, secretly looking past them, hoping to catch a glimpse of Charlotte as she arrived. Soon, he recognized the car he'd sent to retrieve her was driving up. He immediately went inside, and waited for her to enter. He told a servant to fetch his mother. Draco was going to prove to her that the girl he asked to accompany him was good enough, and punctual as he credited her to be.

Draco waited, pulling at his cuffs restlessly. He then heard her voice, "My name? Charlotte LaRocque. I'm here with young Master Malfoy."

"Ah, yes, here you are. Let us take your coat, and we hope you enjoy the evening," the attendant with the guest list spoke politely.

"Draco? Is that you?" she called, and he turned to face her.

When he saw her, his jaw nearly dropped. He couldn't find words to describe how she looked. She wore a floor-length, emerald green ball gown, with a silver lace trim around her waist, with little emerald crystals dotting the bottom her skirt where it nearly touched the ground. Her shoulders were exposed, and little silver, black, and green flowers were woven elegantly into the bodice. The silver trim around her waist bordered a wide silver sash, which tied around her waist into a finely crafted bow on her back, the tails of the bow trailing gracefully halfway down the skirt. The skirt was full, with silver petticoats just showing at the very bottom.

Her shimmering brown hair was woven into an intricate, elegant bun, with green ribbon threaded prettily through it. Around her neck there lay a green ribbon necklace, folded gently in the front, with a glinting amber jewel laid in silver to hold it in place. She wore simple glittering diamond stud earrings, and a touch of makeup on her face made her look absolutely stunning.

"Well," Charlotte said, smiling, "What do you think?" She twirled, and looked at him, eagerly awaiting his verdict.

Draco couldn't help but smile back, and refrained from yelling his praise, and responded in a pleasant tone, "You look splendid!"

"You really think so?" she looked down at herself, smoothing her dress, even though it didn't need it.

"Honestly, you look beautiful." He added, unable to suppress a smile.

She was overjoyed, "I just knew you'd like it! I had you in mind when I picked out the colors, actually. And you clean up nice in a suit, Draco. Very handsome."

"Um, thank you, Charlotte." He got a little flustered, and recovered, "Well, shall we go inside?" He offered her his arm, which Charlotte took cheerfully.

They walked in, and Draco watched Charlotte's expression go from anticipation to pure awe at the beauty of the extensively decorated ballroom. He was very pleased with the reaction, and when she caught him looking and smiled at him, he faced forward again, looking absently about the room.

The two went farther into the big ballroom, and to the refreshment table. Charlotte couldn't contain her enthusiasm. "It looks absolutely beautiful in here! I've never seen anything so wonderfully decorated. And a live orchestra!" she gushed.

"There was a lot to put together, let me tell you," he smirked.

"You did all this?"

"Organized it, yes. Put it all up? No way," he shook his head.

"I see. This is your home, right?"

"Yes, in fact, it is." He asked her, "Uh, Charlotte? Would you like to dance?"

"I would love to, Draco." She took his hand, and let him lead her onto the dance floor.

They danced for a few songs, and soon Draco noticed his mother beckoning him. He guided Charlotte to a chair near the wall, and whispered in her ear, "Could you excuse me for a moment? I have to be right back. Okay?"

"Of course," she nodded, "I'll be right here." She watched the dancing people with an air of fascination that made Draco shake his head as he went to answer his mother.

"What is it, Mother?" he asked, respectfully.

Narcissa replied, "I just wanted to talk to you about your guest. Remind me her name?"

"Charlotte LaRocque, she's in my year at school," he explained.

"Ah, I see. And what of her family?"

"Medical wizards; healers in the lesser-known communities in the Wizarding world. What do you think of her?" Draco inquired, curious.

She paused, "She seems like a nice girl, and her dress is astonishing. I very much approve of your choice, an exquisite jewel to wear on your arm, my son. By the way," Narcissa added, "I'm going to have to retire to one of the side studies in a bit, to talk to some especially important guests. Will you be all right?"

"Of course, Mother," he rolled his eyes.

"You're making a good impression so far, Draco, and I commend you for that. Now, run along back to your guest, you don't want to leave the poor girl waiting." Narcissa dismissed her son with a wave of her hand.

Draco silently complied. He found Charlotte, not having moved from her chair, and the two of them recommenced dancing. As they danced, Charlotte's dress flowed smoothly with the turns, her silver trim glinting every so often in the light given off by the many chandeliers. During an especially slow piece, Draco started to feel rather anxious.

"What's wrong, Draco?" she recognized his hesitance. "Do you want to sit down?" He nodded, and she guided him to the refreshment table. Charlotte sat him down, putting the back of one of her hands on his forehead, then his cheek, "I can't feel a fever. What's troubling you?"

Unbeknownst to Charlotte, her touch made it tougher for Draco to think straight. His heart rate sped up, and he sighed. What was wrong with him? Feeling so peculiar all of a sudden, Charlotte's concerned touch setting his heart off like a berserk clock?

She stood, and Draco watched her go, trying to get a grip. She came back moments later with a glass of water. The look of concern on her face made him feel bad for acting so ridiculously. He took the glass from her, and drank slowly, trying to clear his head. Draco saw his mother leave the ballroom with some rich-looking wizards and witches, and he was able to relax further. He could stop worrying so much about having her watchful, cold eyes on him constantly. His mind at ease for the moment, he was able to start a casual conversation with Charlotte.

"So, is your dress goblin-made?" he inquired, as he took another sip of water.

"No," she shook her head, "My mother and grandmother made it, with some of my help."

"You're serious? The dress you're wearing was made by hand? Without any magic or the help of goblins?" Draco was shocked.

"Yes, Grandmother is a skilled seamstress, and I've found that she does her best work without magic," Charlotte looked at her dress, pleased, running her hand over the stitching in the bodice.

Draco stared at her and her dress, astounded. How could someone make such an exquisite gown by hand? Surely there had to be some secret, some magical spell or trick to make it look so impeccable.

"Is that a bad thing? Do you not like it?" she started to falter, and look a bit saddened.

Draco instantly reassured her, "No, of course not! I'm just amazed at how such a feat could be accomplished without a single spell or charm. I think it's lovely."

"Thank you, Draco," she smiled again. She took his hand in both of hers, and asked, "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, I most definitely am. How would you like to meet some of my family's associates? Mother said I had to be social, and I suppose this is as good a time as any. It can be kind of dull," he asked, half expecting her to refuse.

But she did the opposite, "I'd be happy to come. Anything to make the night easier for you, my dear." She stood, straightening out her necklace and making sure her hair was perfect. "I want to give a good impression, you know," she replied to his questioning look.

"All right, all right. Let's go," he said, impatient. They walked arm in arm to an anteroom, where many guests were milling around. His greetings always began, "Good evening, Madam/Lord (insert name here). Are you enjoying the festivities?" and then they'd respond, and then he would introduce Charlotte. And she would curtsy; telling them of the pleasure it was to meet them. Soon, Draco began to lose interest, and turned to Charlotte, "I am rather bored with socializing, shall we go elsewhere?"

She nodded, "Certainly. Do you want to dance again? If you're up to it, that is."

"Sure," he agreed, leading her back to the twirling and swaying couples on the dance floor.

As the music floated through the air above them, Draco found he couldn't help but gaze at Charlotte. Why hadn't he realized she was this enchanting before? They'd spent plenty of time together at school, as study partners, and good friends. Tonight, however, he saw something more in her. Maybe it was her dress, hugging her figure down to her waist, then billowing out most elegantly. Perhaps it was her hair, she liked to keep it many ways-up in a ponytail, braided, down, and more- but he'd never before noticed how it shone in the light. Maybe it was her face, the little amount of makeup she wore accentuating her features in a delicate manner. Her eyes caught his again, and they held for a moment, before looking demurely in different directions.

What in the world was he feeling? Whatever it was, this strange new emotion only intensified when he looked at Charlotte. When she glanced at him again, she flashed him a sweet smile, and Draco's heart skipped a beat. He was unaware that Charlotte was stealing glances at him, too, admiring his striking silver eyes, and how at ease he appeared to be, as well as how finely dressed he was.

Something in him suddenly made him decide to do something totally out of the ordinary. He wasn't sure where the impulse came from, but he didn't want to wait for another opportunity. He slowly leaned towards her, and lightly kissed Charlotte on the cheek. He instantly looked away, pretending to focus on one of the wreaths on the wall near them, for fear of her response. He expected her to glare at him with repulsion, and demand that he leave her alone.

When he took the risk of stealing a glance back at Charlotte, her reaction surprised him. Rather than looking revolted, she was beaming at him with an expression of pure delight.

"I'm… sorry," he muttered, suddenly ashamed at what he'd done.

Charlotte cocked her head to the side, "What for? You missed."

"Wait, what?" Draco was now very confused, "What do you mean I missed? No, I didn't, I…"

She giggled, responding playfully, "Here, I'll help you."

Draco hadn't even noticed they'd stopped dancing. He furrowed his brow, unsure of what she meant.

In response, Charlotte stood up a little higher, slowly putting her arms around his neck. She leaned in close, slowly shutting her eyes as she gently kissed him full on the mouth. At first, Draco was shocked, his eyes wide, but he quickly relaxed, wrapping his arms around Charlotte's waist, holding her close. They held the kiss for a moment, and when Charlotte pulled back, ending it, she watched him closely, biting her lower lip, curious as to what he'd say.

"Charlotte, I… that was…" was all he could manage. He was flushed, and wore quite the exhilarated expression. Charlotte appeared very pleased with herself, and with a quick glance around to see if anyone noticed, they resumed the minuet.

* * *

A few hours later, the night began to draw to a close. Charlotte decided to stay until all the guests left, to keep her host company. Since that kiss, Draco had not been able to let Charlotte out of his sight, and when he did, his head began to swirl. One instance, while she "powdered her nose" as she called it, Draco couldn't sit still. His mind was going crazy. He'd think to himself, _Why is it that I am so drawn to her? I'm feeling all this strange… affection?_ He was beginning to recognize something he'd been attempting to hide for weeks now. Was it… _Love_? _No, Draco, that can't be._ He reassured himself. Not yet, anyway. Little did he know how close he was to realizing what his true feelings were.

She reemerged, and Draco was pleasantly surprised when she intertwined her fingers through his and asked what they were to do next. He took a deep breath to regain his composure, and informed her that part of his duty was to wish guests farewell as the party drew to a close. She said she didn't mind helping with that, and it would be a pleasure. They looped arms, and went to the entryway, where people were beginning to congregate for departure.

All the while the two of them wished nobles, businessmen and their wives, and other prominent Wizarding folk a good night, and to stay warm on the holiday, Draco constantly was in contact with Charlotte. He would shake hands with his right hand, while Charlotte stood on his left side, his free hand resting warmly on the small of her back.

The final guests left, and they were able to find a place to rest: a couch in another anteroom. They spoke casually for a bit, making jokes about guests they noticed that were particularly amusing characters, when Narcissa came into the room. Draco stood.

"Hello, Mother," he spoke evenly. He held his hands behind his back, clearly submissively.

"Draco," she replied coolly, "I saw you two from time to time tonight, I tried to find a time to talk to you, but you were so busy being a gracious host, my son, that I never found the time. May I meet your guest now?" Narcissa requested, attempting to appear friendly.

Draco nodded, and took Charlotte's hand, leading her to stand before the tall woman with long, dark hair, a few wide streaks of gray and white near her face. He spoke, "Mother, I would like to introduce Miss Charlotte LaRocque, sixth year Ravenclaw at Hogwarts."

Charlotte curtsied, careful not to say anything without first being spoken to.

"Ravenclaw? A good house, you must be a brilliant witch." Narcissa walked slowly around Charlotte, appraising her. "A beautiful gown, Miss LaRocque, most exquisite. Goblin-made?" she asked the silent girl in green.

Charlotte replied, avoiding eye contact, "My mother and grandmother made it by hand. I find they do their best sewing without magic, ma'am."

"How wonderful, I would have to agree with you on that. I've never seen anything like it." Narcissa turned to Draco, "I do believe that I am going to retire for the night. See to it that this girl gets home safely. Thanks to you and all your efforts tonight, Draco, everyone was impressed. Good night." She left without another word.

Draco breathed a sigh of relief, "Well that went better than I thought. I was so afraid she'd think I was a failure."

"Oh, Draco, you are anything but a failure," she reassured him. She sat back down on the couch.

He sat next to her, "Thank you. Shall we see to getting you a ride home?"

"As long as it's no trouble."

"Not at all." Draco called a servant, requesting a means to get Charlotte home.

"Are you sure it's not too late? I mean, the driver could fall asleep, it's nearly two in the morning!" Charlotte was very concerned.

Draco was most amused by her worry, and laughed aloud. "You're that upset about getting a driver in the middle of the night?" And when she nodded seriously, he rolled his eyes. "Charlotte, they sent for a bewitched car. There isn't a driver, only the spell that will take you to your home. Now, let's find your coat."

Charlotte decided to take one more look around the gorgeous ballroom she had just spent the past few hours in. She decided that this was the most wonderful night she could remember. She took a deep breath, and went to catch up to Draco at the front door.

He helped her put her coat on, but hated to cover up that beautiful dress. Draco looked around as they stood in the entryway, and noticed all the servants were gone, cleaning up or asleep, no doubt. His façade could be let down, now that no one was around to judge him on it. They stood outside, and snow was lightly falling.

Charlotte spoke quieter than before. "What a wonderful night! Thank you so much for this opportunity."

"Charlotte, it's I who should be thanking you. I'm glad you decided to come. Usually any girl who I talked to would brush me off without another thought." Draco replied, a little ashamed.

Charlotte then took his hands, "Well, that's their loss. I'm very proud to say that I had a marvelous time with you, _mon amí_, at an extravagant party tonight."

"About that, I was wondering, after, you know… earlier, when we sort of… um…" he shifted uneasily, trying to get his thoughts in order.

She laughed softly at his awkward manner, "You mean when we kissed?"

"Yes, that. When we… kissed. Where does that leave us?" Draco asked, a little lost. He liked the feel of her hands in his, and he couldn't deny the fact that having her there with him that night had been wonderful.

"I don't know, exactly. How do you feel about this, about us, in your heart?" Charlotte cocked her head to the side, most curious about his reply.

"Well, I…" this caught Draco off guard. He had never been told to trust his heart, only that emotions concerning it were not to be trusted. This time, however, he felt something different, as though he could trust his heart in this.

He looked into Charlotte's eyes, contemplating what to say. He finally said, "I… I really like you." He slowly, tentatively placed his hand on the side of her face, watching her auburn eyes glinting in the soft light.

"I like you too, Draco," she leaned into his hand, lightly. "So, my dear, what do you propose we do now? How shall we resolve this quandary?"

"I'm not sure. I've never done this before," Draco spoke, very sheepishly, dropping his hands to his sides.

Before either of them could say anything more, the car pulled up, and one of its doors opened, as if impatient. Charlotte turned to Draco, "Thanks again for a magical night!" She stood on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, "_Bonne nuit, mon ami._"

With that, she left him at the entrance of Malfoy Manor. Draco watched the car drive away with very high spirits. He was very pleased at how the night had gone- in fact, better than expected. For now, she'd helped him have a marvelous night, be a success in his mother's eyes, and forget all his troubles about being a Death Eater, and all the pressures he knew were fast approaching. He wondered if Charlotte knew how much she meant to him, how much he valued her at this moment. Unbeknownst to him, as she rode home, Charlotte was thinking the very same thing. Unfortunately for Draco, this bliss couldn't last forever.


	17. Chapter 17

**{Side note: Before this chapter begins, I would like to let you know that the word "_Cheval"_ is French for "horse" and Charlotte's parents call her that as a term of endearment.} Read on and enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 17

"I'm telling you, Cissy, he's doing a terrible job!" Bellatrix nearly yelled. "Sure, he was a model citizen at the Ball last week, but he's utterly incompetent at his task!"

"Bella, I know he hasn't done everything straightaway, but he's told me many times, this task is more difficult than he thought. And we mustn't interfere, we do not—" Narcissa Malfoy tried to calm her sister.

Bellatrix wouldn't have any of it, "No! It's so easy! I could march up to the headmaster, and kill him –Just like that!" She pointed to a window with her wand, shattering it instantly.

"I know. You believe you could do so much better than my son. But this is a great opportunity for him- imagine how much respect it could bring to him as a new Death Eater. And it is the Dark Lord's will, so we must abide by it. You of all people should know that." She raised an eyebrow, playing on Bellatrix's undying loyalty to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"Fine. I don't want to anger Him. That would spell disaster for me, his most loyal follower." She sighed, angry at her inability to act.

Draco could only hear part of this conversation at the top of the main staircase, but what he heard made him angry. He had told everyone he was doing his best! "Why don't you try being in my situation, assigned to fill my shoes for a change? Then you'll know how difficult it is to kill a headmaster, especially one as heavily guarded as Dumbledore!" he muttered angrily. He was glad to finally hear the telling sound of his aunt Disapparating.

"Draco!" he heard his mother call him.

He went to where she was, in the entryway, putting on her overcoat. "What is it, Mother?" he whined.

She replied, straightening out her coat, "I'm leaving to dine at the Carrows' home, and I won't be back until late."

"Fine." Draco shrugged. "Tell them I send my greetings."

"Don't look so put out, Draco, you have plenty to do. Practice your spells, as this house is protected from Ministry monitoring. I know you have some homework, or something you can work on."

He rolled his eyes, and walked away.

Before she could get another word in, Draco was out of earshot and had lost all interest. His mother was annoying him, and any reason to get her out of the house was a good one, especially with her bashing all his efforts with his spiteful Aunt Bellatrix.

He went outside, and in taking his mother's advice, began practicing his spells. He needed to get better at his Dark Magic, as it was of utmost importance, especially in the near future. After an hour or so, he grew bored. He went back inside, and was so bored that he actually started working ahead on his studies. While he did so, a thought came to him. Who else would be doing such an act? Working on a school vacation? Why, none other than Charlotte!

He decided to give her a call, talk to her about something, anything. He'd been looking for some excuse to talk to her again, and this was a good opportunity. He conjured a telephone and dialed her number.

When a man answered, Draco was caught off guard, unsure how to respond. He finally uttered, "Is Charlotte LaRocque there?"

The man replied, in a very friendly voice, "Why sure she is, let me check. Hold on one moment." He set the receiver down, and resumed, "She's outside grazing about, as it were. Is this Draco Malfoy speaking?"

"Yes." He replied, diffidently.

"This is Charlotte's father, I'm honored to be speaking to you. You were quite the gentleman to her the other night –Ah, here she is."

A familiar voice spoke next, "Draco?"

"Hello, Charlotte."

"How's it going?" She sounded winded, although cheerful.

"Were you just running? You sound like you're about to faint."

"Oh, I just saw my dad waving me over and I loped back quick as I could. What's on your mind?" She sighed.

"Well, I'm bored out of my mind. I've done everything I can think of, and I wanted to talk to you." He tried to sound like he hadn't been dying to talk to her since the night of the Ball.

"That's sweet of you to think of me. What have you been up to all day?" Charlotte inquired, smiling to herself.

"My aunt was over for a bit, and I've been practicing my magic, and actually doing homework, and now I don't know what to do. My mother is gone for the evening, and I'm alone in my big house, bored to tears." Draco whined, wishing he were at school, so he could do something productive.

She took a breath and said, tentatively, "Well, Draco, if you're all alone and so bored, would you maybe like to spend the afternoon with me? Perhaps stay for dinner? It's no trouble at all, but if you aren't up for it, I understand. It's a…totally different world than one you're used to, I can tell you that much." She laughed nervously.

Draco paused, "Mother isn't going to be back until late, so that should be fine. Where do you live?"

Charlotte gave him her address, and which home to look for. "I'll keep an eye out for you, and when I see you, I'll call out to you. Sound okay? And we don't need to stay at my house, there is a lovely park behind my yard we can explore."

"All right, that sounds fine. I'll, um, see you in a bit, then," he replied in an awkward manner, and hung up. He suddenly got nervous. "What do I wear?" he said to himself, and then mentally scolded himself for worrying about how he looked when he was going to just spend time with a friend. But she meant more to him than that, didn't she? He couldn't argue with that. He put on a nice-looking sweater and some nicer pants, and snuck out of his own home.

Once he was outside the gates to Malfoy Manor, he focused on the address that Charlotte described to him, and Disapparated. A split second later, he appeared on a street corner he didn't recognize. He looked about, suddenly confused. He didn't know which direction to choose, and tried to appear aloof as he leaned against a lamppost, taking furtive glances for something familiar, like what Charlotte told him.

He then heard a voice, calling his name, "Draco? Draco!" He looked over his left shoulder, and walking purposefully towards him was none other than Charlotte, wearing a black coat, a black headband laid in her brown hair. He instantly relaxed, and waited for her to catch up to him.

"Did you get lost? My directions weren't the most specific, were they? Do you mind if we stop by my house? I have to grab my gloves, it's colder out here than I thought." She started back, and when Draco didn't follow right away, she looked back, sensed his unease, and rolled her eyes. "You're fine out here. There aren't any Dementors or anyone of especially shady personality around here. Come on!" She grabbed his hand, and led him to her home.

Draco felt a whole lot better the moment she took his hand. Her brisk step amused him, her eagerness showing through. They arrived at her home, and what he saw shocked him. It was a modest, one-floored house with a neat front yard, the roof and walkway blanketed lightly with snow.

"I know it isn't much, but we call it home." Charlotte let him go, and told him to wait there, in front of the steps; she wouldn't be more than a minute. Draco waited outside patiently, and before he could complain, Charlotte burst out the front door, closing the door quickly behind her. "Do you want to explore the forest?"

He shrugged. "Sure. If that's what you want to do."

"Then come along, it's so beautiful in the winter!"

The two of them trailed into the woods, Charlotte pointing things out along the way, giving a pleasant narration to the calm winter afternoon.

"You can see lots of animals have used this trail, so it's well defined—there are tracks made by deer, raccoon, fox, even some songbirds!" She pointed to the different patterns in the snow.

Draco interjected, "I see some horse tracks. I didn't know wild horses lived in this area. Do you think one got loose from a farm a few towns over?"

At his jibe, she playfully elbowed him in the ribs. "Oh, hush."

He laughed softly, and continued, "So, where is this favorite spot you keep going on about? Are we almost there?" He feigned impatience, when in truth, he was enjoying their little stroll very much.

"Hold your horses—pardon the expression—it's just a bit farther." And after about ten minutes more of wandering down the trail, Charlotte exclaimed, "Here we are!"

They stood in a wide clearing, a field with rolling hills and a little river with a bridge arching gently over it. He glanced at Charlotte, and her expression was serene. At his curious look, she added, "I love to spend time here by myself, and do whatever, even just sit and think… it's simply wonderful."

"Mhmm," Draco agreed, more concerned with how cute she looked when she was happy.

"Come on," she took his hand, and led him onto the bridge. At the middle of the bridge, Charlotte dropped his hand and went to lean on the railing, lost in her thoughts. He leaned on it as well, his mind going through so many things. He reached into his pocket, and felt the little box he had brought with him.

"In the summer, when the ice is gone, the river is open and how it rushes downstream and under the bridge is perfect background noise for reading." Charlotte sighed pleasantly.

Draco could tell that she was completely at ease, so he decided that it was now or never. He took a deep breath, "Uh, Charlotte? I've been meaning to talk to you…"

"Sure, what is it?" She replied, almost dreamily.

"Well, I've been intending to thank you properly for attending the Ball with me, and for being such a good friend to me." He shyly added, "I have something for you. A gift, of sorts."

"What? The Ball was a big enough gift- I don't need anything else!" She politely replied.

"But I insist. It was Christmas a few days ago, you know. Here," he handed her the little box. She untied the little ribbon, and opened the box. Her eyes grew wide with surprise.

"This is for me?" she asked, astonished. She lifted its contents carefully, marveling at it. Inside was a little sterling silver bracelet with a shimmering horse charm on it. "Oh, Draco, this is… I don't know what to say!"

"Here, I'll put it on for you." He gently did the clasp so it fit comfortably on her right wrist. As she marveled at it, Draco couldn't help but smile. He'd hoped she'd like it, and her reaction was better than he'd anticipated.

She looked at the bracelet with adoration, and back at him, a smile on her face. Admiring the intricate little charm on the finely crafted chain, she added, "Are you sure you want to give something this exquisite to insignificant little me?"

"You are definitely not insignificant, Charlotte. I…" he wavered, and took her hands for support. "You are always so kind to me, and I've never known anyone that would do all you've done for me. I don't know how to thank you, how to make it up to you. I feel like we've gotten to be good friends, and I feel… I feel so…"

"It's fine, Draco, just take a moment to gather your thoughts. I'm listening." Charlotte reassured him.

He took a deep breath, dropping her hands, and looked away from her when he continued, "I think… I might have feelings for you." His heart rate began to increase.

"You do?" She said softly, her own heartbeat speeding up as well.

He nodded slowly, afraid of what she'd say. Draco looked back at Charlotte, "Would you ever, um… consider being with a Dea… I mean, a stuck-up Slytherin guy like me?"

"Possibly," she flashed him a half-smile, "Why? What's on your mind?"

"If you'd have me, I would be very pleased if you would go out with me. As in, we would be, sort of… dating." He was very flustered as he spoke, looking anywhere but at her.

Charlotte was most amused, and flattered, "Of course! I'd be delighted to go out with you, Draco, and to be your _amoreux_!"

"Really?" He exclaimed, and when he saw her nod enthusiastically, he embraced her in amazement. He finally had someone he could fully trust, and he didn't have to feel awkward about it. He knew he couldn't tell her about him being a Death Eater or plotting to kill Albus Dumbledore, but he wouldn't have to feel alone in this dark and confusing world anymore. With Charlotte there to support him, Draco knew he could endure and accomplish anything.

He looked down at Charlotte, whose expression was that of pure joy as well. Seizing the moment, he leaned down, gently kissing Charlotte. She kissed him back, feeling quite elated. She, too, was very glad that he had finally said something about how he felt. No matter how awkward and vague his approach, she knew that was his way of saying, "I think I'm falling in love with you" and Charlotte felt the same way for Draco.

They ended the kiss, and Draco buried his face in her neck, holding her close, breathing in the sweet scent of her perfume. Charlotte sighed, wanting to prolong theembrace. He finally released her, but continued to hold one of her hands, as a reminder to him that she really did agree to his humble request.

"It's getting rather late. Would you like to stay for dinner?" Charlotte inquired, "You don't have to, if you don't want to. I understand if you have plans, but I thought I'd offer."

Draco took a moment to contemplate, and finally answered, "I think that would be nice to eat dinner with you and your family. Something different and new!"

"Oh come now, us common folk don't eat terribly different foods than you do, just a little less extravagant. And my family has been dying to meet you. Are you up for it?" She asked, earnest. He paused, thinking, then nodded. "Perfect! Let's go, then," she took the lead, but Draco quickly regained his spot right beside Charlotte as they trailed back to where they started.

He asked her, a little worried, "Do you think I look presentable?"

She replied him, amused, "Yes, you look fine. It's not like we're going to some fancy restaurant."

"True, but I want to look nice to give a good impression on your family. I must be on my best behavior." He tossed his head almost haughtily, but Charlotte rolled her eyes, replying honestly.

"Draco, just be your sweet, slightly abrasive self, and you should do fine."

"I am not abrasive!" he retorted, frowning. To her insinuating look, he divulged, "All right, fine. I'll admit I'm a little difficult sometimes. But I'm getting better, around you anyway."

"Just act like you normally do around me, and don't try to put up a façade. My family won't judge you or anything, so don't you worry about impressing them. You've captivated me, so just use some of that Malfoy charm on them and you'll be just fine." Charlotte gently reassured him, squeezing his hand in hers. Upon reaching her home, they walked inside, and Charlotte announced their presence.

"Mom! Dad! I've brought someone home I want you to meet." She looked up at Draco with an anticipating smile on her face. He dropped her hand, and went to hanging up his coat.

Her mother came into the entryway, donning an apron and her hair in a messy ponytail, like her daughter sometimes wore. "How was your walk? And who is this fine young man you've brought into our humble home? Frederic, come here a minute," she called, a welcoming smile on her face.

Her father entered, a tall man with dark hair and glasses, carrying a newspaper. "Welcome back, _Cheval_. What do we have here?"

"Mom, Dad, this is Draco Malfoy. He's the boy who took me to the Ball last weekend." Charlotte explained, anxiously waiting their response.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Malfoy." Her mother graciously nodded to him.

"It's about time we met you, sir!" Frederic LaRocque held out a friendly hand, which Draco shook congenially. "Welcome to our home. Staying for dinner, are you?"

Draco replied in a very friendly manner, "If you'll allow me to, I would like to stay for dinner, Mr. and Mrs. LaRocque."

They agreed wholeheartedly that Draco would stay for dinner, and another place was set, next to Charlotte. As they ate, roast chicken with seasoned potatoes and a fruit salad, the LaRocque family got to know Draco, and he found them extremely friendly. He could clearly see where Charlotte's understanding nature had come from. More than once he glanced dotingly over at her, and he was unaware that Mrs. LaRocque noticed these little stolen glances.

After dinner, and a conjured bouquet as a gift of gratitude from Draco, the two sixth-years walked back to the street corner where Draco arrived earlier that day. They said their farewells, and with a _crack_, Draco left. Once Charlotte was back inside her warm house, she was greeted by her mother's calm voice.

"So,_ Cheval,_" she asked, "How long have you and that lovely boy been dating?"

Charlotte froze, and looked up at her mother. Her arms were crossed, and she wore a knowing look on her face. "Wh… where did you get that idea, Mom?"

"He's not very discreet with his furtive admiration of you, my dear. And on your wrist is a beautiful piece of jewelry that I've never seen before, so I can only assume you got it from him."

Charlotte couldn't help but smile at the thought of Draco trying to be discreet. She sighed, "Today he gave me this bracelet to thank me for being so kind to him. Then he asked me out. And I said yes."

"That's very sweet. He is quite a gentleman. Don't worry, your father and I don't mind that you're dating him. Just have fun, and be there for him, like you always are. I get the strange feeling that he needs someone like you more than he thinks. Understand?" When Charlotte nodded, she added, "Good. Just be whatever he needs, and make sure he respects you, too, and you'll be very happy."

"Thanks, Mom." Charlotte embraced her mother.

Back at Malfoy Manor, Draco was in high spirits. He told the house elves in the kitchen that they needn't make him anything for dinner, as he'd already eaten. He found a list of chores his mother had left him on his door, and he went about doing them without a single complaint. With the knowledge that he definitely wasn't alone in the world, and was finally able to get close to someone he trusted, he was at ease, forgetting his stress and pressures, for the time being.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Once the long winter holiday ended, school resumed, and things went back to normal. Well, normal for almost everyone. Draco was feeling much better about himself, and Charlotte shared his sentiment. They had agreed not to flaunt their new relationship, and keep it mostly to themselves. Draco didn't want to admit it, but he was afraid that Crabbe and Goyle would make fun of him for dating a common girl like her. Charlotte agreed without question, and told him she would be whatever he needed her to be, as long as they were together. This new experience didn't do much to cure his inclination for troublemaking, however.

In Charms class one day a month or so after term resumed, for example, Draco was being especially smart-allecky about the relevance of one of the topics they were learning about.

"Why in the world do we have to learn the blasted Avifors Charm, Flitwick?" he asked, rather loudly.

The small, dwarf-ish professor stopped his lecture, and looked at Draco, trying to reply, "Well, for example, you could…"

"It's not like we're going to be spending a lot of time changing objects into birds in our lifetimes, is it now?" Draco demanded, "Tell me one life's pursuit, one career that makes a use of such an activity, besides a fraud who claims to be a magician for the entertainment of dirty, unworthy Muggles?"

At his comment, most of the class stared at him, open-mouthed and incredulous. Flitwick was very flustered, and his usually nimble manner was interrupted, as he fell silent. He took a deep breath, and spoke deliberately. "Mr. Malfoy, if you do not apologize for saying such hurtful things, both about what I teach in this class and about non-magical human beings, you will be sorry."

Draco shrugged, "It's a valid question, Professor. I'm not going to take any of it back, as I meant every word."

Flitwick instantly pointed to the door, which opened, and muttered, "Then you may leave my classroom, and you've just earned yourself a week's detention. Dismissed!"

He stood, "Whatever, I don't need this class anyway." He left without another word, but received supportive glances from Goyle, Crabbe, and fellow Slytherins as he walked past them.

His detention sentence was decided to be helping kitchen elves by doing countless dishes by hand, without magic. He hated it, but endured it nonetheless.

* * *

Recently, Draco had been using a new tactic in his plot to kill the headmaster. He had fashioned two fake coins instilled with the Protean Charm, having stolen the idea from Dumbledore's Army last year, and cast an Imperius Charm on the bartender, Madam Rosemerta, and she was to smuggle in items he needed for his task. Today, he assigned her to deliver him a package that was to arrive that day, meeting him in the Forbidden Forest an hour before sunset. She was to change the sequence of numbers when she had obtained it, and he would give her an exact time to get it to him.

Later that day, he got word that his package came, and he went about retrieving it as surreptitiously as he could. He hid it in his room, having sufficiently convinced his roommates that it contained nothing of importance –merely a bunch of Howler notes that, if opened, would all go off at once, severely damaging their eardrums.

After detention, Draco went to Charlotte's study to work on homework as usual, and found she wasn't there. He started doing his homework, assuming she'd only be a minute. As he expected, she came in momentarily, carrying her books. What he wasn't expecting was the troubled look on her face.

"Hey, Draco," she said, trying to keep her nonchalance.

Draco sat up and frowned, "Charlotte? What's wrong?"

She set down her books, and said, anxious, "I saw the creepiest thing outside while I was grazing in the Forbidden Forest. I don't know what it was, but it freaked me out."

"Tell me," he became reflexively protective of her, wanting to get rid of anything that frightened or upset her. "What did you see?"

"Well, you know how I like to take evening strolls around the Forbidden Forest, right? Well, today, when I was near the south edge of the forest, I heard a strange voice. I followed it, and noticed a sinister figure standing in a small, secluded clearing, with its hood up, and with it was a strangely stiff and expressionless Madam Rosmerta from the Three Broomsticks. When the figure spoke, its voice was deep and menacing."

At her description, Draco began to feel very cold, as this scene was very familiar to him.

She continued, "Madam Rosmerta handed the figure something. I couldn't figure out what it was, and was too afraid to go any closer. A branch I was standing on cracked beneath one of my hooves, and the figure turned immediately in my direction, raising a wand in defense. I instantly turned tail and galloped away as fast as I could. I'm not sure if any spells were cast, but I thought it smart to get out of there as fast as possible."

Draco put a hand on her shoulder, "I'm glad you're all right. I think I would've been petrified with fear if I saw something like that. And then I'd have been consequentially magicked because of not having the sense to leave when I was supposed to."

"I don't know whether to say something to one of the Professors, or to forget about it, or what!" she was rather agitated.

He tried to calm her, "Oh, I don't think you need to say anything to the professors, it was probably just an illegal exchange for something to do with the Black Wizard's Market. I've heard the Boar's Head pub has a hand in that, maybe Madam Rosmerta's involved, as well."

"Maybe." She sighed, a little embarrassed, "Since then I've been jumping at the silliest things, I feel like I'm still a skittish horse."

"It's fine, Charlotte, you don't have to feel self-conscious about that. I'm here with you now, so you don't have to worry about anything." He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and kissed the top of her head. "Shall we commence our homework?"

They did so, and Charlotte felt a little better. She always felt safe and sound with Draco around to defend her, to keep her out of harm's way.

* * *

One afternoon, while Draco did his detention in the kitchen, cleaning dishes by hand, he heard a voice he didn't quite recognize in the other room talking to the kitchen elves, laughing with the kitchen elves. A female voice, perhaps a kitchen hand he'd never seen, another Squib employed at Hogwarts. He'd seen a few of them around, and he thought very little of it, more concerned with taking his time washing the stupid dishes without using magic.

The girl walked in, not glancing at him, and turned to wash her hands and grab an apron. Draco only looked at her passively, a fleeting glance that conveyed disinterest. When she approached, however, he thought there was something familiar about her. Her russet hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and she was humming pleasantly.

He focused on the dishes again, but stopped when he heard her voice clearly, "What are you doing here, Draco?"

He looked up, and saw a surprised Charlotte facing him. He asked her, "Charlotte? They got you too?"

"What are you talking about? I come here every week and volunteer to help the elves with dishes. We do this by hand all the time at my house, so I'm used to this method. Why are you here? I'd never have guessed you liked doing dishes." Charlotte was intrigued.

Draco rolled his eyes, "No, this is detention for me. I made a professor angry, and this is the punishment they came up with. I think it's rather tedious and boring. How can you choose to do such hard work?"

"Because of the Trace, I can't use magic at home. And, my parents are, well… let's just say they stick with that, too, so I don't feel left out that I'm not old enough." She finished, hurriedly.

Draco shrugged, and the two of them kept washing and drying. Draco couldn't really get away with talking without being shushed, what with the kitchen hands patrolling through, monitoring him. He did, however, once he got unbearably bored, decided to make things interesting. He took an especially big handful of soapy water, and threw it at Charlotte. She wasn't paying attention, so it took her by surprise. She looked up, and Draco attempted to appear innocent, unsuccessfully. Charlotte shook her head, letting it slide, but when another handful splashed on her arm, she gave him a look that said, "You're asking for it."

Soon, it escalated to a full-out suds battle, and they were sufficiently covered with dishwater and soap, laughing good-humoredly. Draco wasn't paying attention to what he was doing, and didn't realize he had his sleeves rolled up, so he wouldn't get them wet. It was no use now, as they were both sopping wet, and he failed to realize Charlotte was staring at his arm.

"Draco?" she asked, tentatively, "What's that on your forearm…? Is it a…"

By the time Draco realized what she was talking about, it was too late. Her eyes widened, and her hand went to her mouth in shock. She pointed to his bare left wrist, and took a step back.

"That's… that's the Dark Mark…" she glanced at him, pleading with fearful eyes, entreating Draco for a response.

Instead of saying anything, Draco looked ashamed, and turned away, throwing off his apron and storming out, without another word. He muttered, "_Exaresco_," and his clothes dried off, the water and suds instantly evaporating. _It's over!_ his mind screamed, _She's never going to trust me again. She's going to fear me, hate me, and avoid me at all costs. She's extremely afraid of Death Eaters, and now that she's discovered that her boyfriend is one of them, there's no hope. I've lost my only true friend, the girl that I was even starting to love._ He went to the Room of Requirement, and locked himself in. He took off his sweater, suddenly feeling warm and disgusting, leaving only his gray undershirt. He began destroying everything in his immediate sight: books, pieces of furniture, antique vases, mirrors. The room had become cluttered with things people had meant to be stored for later, or to be forgotten.

He discovered the Vanishing Cabinet, and before he could think to destroy it, he thought, _This is what my purpose is now. I will succeed in killing Dumbledore, and I will earn my place next to the Dark Lord._ He stood up straight, and looked about for something expendable to use as a test subject, for another trial of the Dark Magic he had worked hard to unleash with this Vanishing Cabinet. He found a small birdcage near where he stood, a tiny, light yellow finch flitting around inside.

He opened it and grabbed the bird, but gently, so as not to hurt it. He opened the Vanishing Cabinet, released the bird inside, locked the door, and whispered purposefully, "_Harmonia Nectere Passus_." He heard a click as the sounds of the chirping bird disappeared. He opened the door to find the little finch had disappeared, transported to the other, sister Vanishing Cabinet in Borgin & Burke's shop. He waited a few moments, relocked the door, and repeated the incantation. Another indicative click was heard, and upon opening the door, he found the bird lay motionless on the floor of the cabinet. Draco, despite himself, really hoped it wasn't dead, and took a deep breath to keep his composure.

He slowly closed the door, and couldn't fight the tears that started to form in his eyes. Draco was realizing that he was going to have to _kill_ another human being, to destroy them in front of his very eyes. He didn't know if he could do it. He was at a loss, suddenly losing the fervor he'd felt often before.

* * *

Outside, Charlotte told the kitchen elves that something called her away suddenly and she'd be back if she could very soon. Her mind was going in circles. Draco: a Death Eater? No, it couldn't be true. He couldn't possibly be one of those bloodthirsty killers, she'd seen him for who he really was, and he definitely wasn't a killer. She needed to get her mind on track, and find out what was really going on. She looked around her, searching, searching for some kind of answer, some kind of base to hold onto.

* * *

Draco stood, staring at the Vanishing Cabinet, trying to get a grip on everything. Suddenly, he heard a small voice. "Draco? Are you in here?" He fell silent, trying to hide from any and all intruders on his moment of self-loathing.

After a few moments, he relaxed, as he could no longer hear anyone approaching. He then felt a pair of arms close around his waist, and he tensed. The embrace was familiar, comforting, and the scent of her perfume unmistakable, but he still froze.

"Hey," Charlotte's voice was smaller than normal, and he could tell that she was afraid. The fear didn't prevent her from leaning her head on him, pushing herself beyond her fears, as she continued, "I don't know what you're going through, or whether I can even help you. I've gotten to know you so well, and in learning this secret, I can only hope that I can be of even more help and support to you in any way that you need. I mean, I'm afraid of Death Eaters, but I feel like I can trust you."

Draco was silent, absorbing her words, and finally sighed. He shifted, easing her arms apart so he could turn and face her. She stood up straight, looked up at him, and studied his face, looking for the menace and hate she feared in Death Eaters. Instead, she found pain and confusion, with a fear of loss and failure.

"Do you really mean that?" he said, quietly, somberly.

Charlotte nodded, and replied sincerely, "With all of my heart. I can see the suffering in your eyes, and I want to ease that, to make it more bearable. If you allow me to, I shall remain here for you no matter what."

Draco's expression relaxed, but he was still hesitant. "Are you sure?" When she nodded, he continued, "You have no idea how much this means to me, Charlotte." He put a stray strand of hair behind her ear, fondly.

"It's my pleasure," she said, smiling.

The two of them began talking quietly about what Draco's unintentionally divulged secret meant, so she could begin to grasp what it meant to be a Death Eater. She took his wrist carefully in her hand, "Did this hurt when you got it?"

Draco shrugged, "Yeah, but it didn't take very long. It doesn't hurt anymore, unless the Dark Lord is using it to call us to him. It moves, and it's a very strange sensation."

Charlotte lightly traced the Dark Mark with her finger, and it sent chills over Draco's body at her touch of the sinister symbol. It was almost as if it began to heat up when her fingers made contact with it. "It's so dreadful," she mused, "I can't believe He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named mutilated his own followers."

"Oh, don't worry about that, it isn't as terrible as it seems. It's just like a tattoo, but it can get you persecuted around here." He sighed, remorseful. "Luckily you're the only one who's seen it, besides Crabbe and Goyle, as they're pretty much Death Eaters themselves, and are in on the whole thing."

"Indeed, I'd hate to see what would happen to you if you were found out by someone you didn't trust. I don't think I could bear to see you suffer so. What do you, um, do as a Death Eater?" She asked, tentatively.

He hesitated to answer, "Well, it depends on what the Dark Lord requires of us. We do a lot of his dirty work, but I haven't had to do any of that yet. Often we are entrusted with a task that we have to complete for his benefit."

"Have you been given one of those 'tasks'?" She inquired.

"I… I would rather not talk about that right now…" he trailed off, uneasy.

"That's fine, I'll stay on a need-to-know basis for this, and nothing more. Is it hard to stay in hiding all the time as a Death Eater?"

"Yes, it's very hard. I always wear long sleeves, and I'm careful I don't reveal the fact of what I am, for fear of expulsion and harsh punishment, along with persecution."

"I can kind of relate, you know, to the fear of discrimination."

"How do you mean?" he was confused as to how someone as wonderful as Charlotte could be bullied or discriminated against.

"I'm a Mug… a smart girl who isn't very popular." She spoke quickly.

"That's nothing to fret about, Charlotte, you don't need to worry about popularity, you're so much better than that. Not like me, where popularity is a requirement because of my family. It's a drag, let me tell you." He didn't catch on to Charlotte's sudden switching of subjects, and she was thankful for that.

Soon, it got dark in the Room of Requirement, enchanted candles and chandeliers flickering on as time drew closer to the night.

"I think we missed dinner," he whined slightly.

"Of course you're worried about your stomach. It's fine, I have food in my bag back near the door to the Room of Requirement, so we can do our homework while we eat, if you're still up for studying. Do you think you're ready to go back out there?" She asked him, concerned about how he felt.

Draco was pleased with her concern, and replied, "I'm ready to face anyone, as long as you're by my side." He stood, and shook his head, "I can't believe you still want to even talk to me, what with the knowledge of what I am."

"I've always been told that when you love someone, you need to accept all of them, even their flaws." She flashed him a sweet smile. At her comment, Draco's heart leapt, and he gave her a quick peck on the cheek, causing her to giggle.

"Maybe," she continued, "you can do that for me sometime in the future." She desperately hoped he could be as open-minded as she needed him to be. The way he treated Hermione Granger on a regular basis flashed ominously in her mind, and she began to worry, as Charlotte herself had an unmistakably similar condition.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

"Mudblood!" he would yell at Hermione, hatred filling his eyes. What if he learned that Charlotte was a Muggle-born witch, too? Would he shun her, revile her? Would all of her efforts to be there for Draco be for naught? He detested Muggles, and he deemed any witch or wizard born from Muggle parents to be Mudblood, a terribly derogatory term stating that the individual had impure blood, not worthy of the same rights or even existence compared to half-blood or pureblood Wizarding folk. He hadn't suspected anything so far, the Trace explained her parents' non-magic behavior that evening he spent at her home, and she hadn't mentioned anything about her childhood to him except the bare minimum details. She hated that she was keeping this from him, but her fear of how he would react kept her from bringing the touchy subject to light. Now that Draco had revealed, accidentally, that he was a Death Eater, she felt even more afraid, as the Dark Lord and his followers set out to essentially purge the world of Muggles and Muggle-born witches and wizards. When she admitted her blood heritage to him, would he turn against her? She desperately hoped that her fears were unfounded, that he would accept her for what she was.

* * *

It was a morning like any other, and when Draco was seeking out Charlotte, he found her eating breakfast with Hermione Granger, having a friendly conversation. He approached, and when Hermione saw him coming, she spoke to Charlotte, frowning, "Look who it is. Malfoy looks like he's on a mission."

"I see him." Charlotte turned her gaze away from him, suppressing a smile.

"Why do you always do that? It's almost like you start smiling when he approaches." Hermione scrutinized her friend's expression.

"I do not. Besides, we don't want to give him any ideas," Charlotte joked, straightening her hair, as if trying to look her best.

Hermione smiled, amused, "That's true, but with someone like you or I? I don't think so. What—"

Draco cut her off, "Granger, what are you doing?"

"Having a genuine conversation with a good friend. Do you have a problem with that?" Hermione asked him icily.

He frowned, and retorted, "I do when I have important business to go over with your 'friend'. Charlotte, when you're finished, I need to talk to you. My Potions homework didn't turn out quite the way you said it would."

Charlotte began to reply, "Of course, Malfoy, I'll be right over."

"Don't rush her, or she might never come over. I can't believe she wastes her time trying to help you," Hermione jibed, turning her back on him.

Draco retorted, "Don't speak to me like that, Mudblood! I'll be over at Slytherin table when you're available, Charlotte." He turned, and went to sit with his cronies once again.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "What a jerk. Why do you even help that scumbag?"

Charlotte shrugged, "I like to help people, even if they aren't the most polite. I offered my help to him after class one day, and since then, I've become a sort of tutor to him. It appears to be really helping his grades."

"Well that's nice of you, I don't think I could be that tolerant of him. And why is it that he always calls me out on being Muggle-born, but completely ignores the fact that you are, too? He looks right past it, and it doesn't make any sense." She was utterly confused.

"Maybe he doesn't know," Charlotte suggested, "If he didn't know, he wouldn't have a reason to hate me."

"Then you'd better not let him know, or he'll make you feel worthless. You'd better go, Charlotte, as much as I love to make him wait, I think the weasel's getting anxious." Hermione sighed, nodding good-bye to Charlotte.

She sat down next to Draco, a little tense, and helped him with his issue. They had some spare time afterwards, and Charlotte decided to test the waters, "Draco, why do you call Hermione a 'Mudblood'?"

"Because that's what she is. A witch with tainted blood, that is different from us normal Wizarding folk, in the worst way imaginable." He prattled off, as if indoctrinated to believe so. "I've always been taught that Muggleborns aren't to be trusted, much less tolerated."

"And what's the reasoning behind that? I mean, I've learned not to trust centaurs and goblins, but because of my experiences in dealing with them. What makes Muggle-born witches and wizards so untrustworthy? They're Wizarding folks, too, aren't they?" Charlotte pressed on, attempting to appear strictly academic in her questions.

"Well, they're… they don't have the inherited power or status compared to those with Wizarding parents, I suppose…" He began to struggle with his answers.

At this, Charlotte drew inspiration, "But you could apply that to economic standing, too. So, you're saying that witches and wizards born into poor families should be seen as less important or competent? Then I must be a terrible witch, and a worthless person, because of my family's humble origins."

Draco instantly became apologetic, "No, of course not! You're a wonderful student, and a very smart and gifted girl. Even though you come from an economic background different from myself, you're still a great witch."

"Then couldn't that pertain to Muggle-born or half-blood witches and wizards? I mean, they come from different familial or blood backgrounds, but shouldn't they be treated as equals in the Wizarding community?"

"No! That's totally different. That just isn't normal: Muggle parents having children that turn out to be magic-capable? It seems almost… unnatural." Draco shuddered. "Why do you ask?"

"Just a question someone asked in my Wizard Philosophy class, and I wondered what your thoughts were on the matter." She shrugged, and saw Hermione leaving. "Uh, Draco? Can we talk later, in Potions, or in our study over homework? Hermione and I have a class in a few minutes, and you know how I hate to be late."

"Oh, of course," Draco nodded, allowing her to stand. "Thank you for your help, you're a lifesaver. See you in Potions." He smiled gratefully.

Charlotte smiled back, but walked rather quickly to where Hermione was headed. She looked back, noticing Draco had gone back to his breakfast, acting normal. She didn't really have a class, but she did want to spend some time thinking over what he had said to her about Mudbloods and all that nonsense. She decided to put it all behind her, but keep it at the back of her mind, and refrain from telling Draco the truth about her until the time was right.

* * *

Draco began to notice that she had been acting a little distant for the past couple of days. After an especially gruesome lesson in Potions on the uses of the Essence of Dittany a few days later, he took her aside and inquired, "What's wrong, Charlotte? You appear a little troubled. Is something on your mind?"

She looked at him, and smiled at his apparent concern for her well-being. She shook her head, "I'm fine, Draco dear, just a little tired. I've had long, sleepless nights the previous few nights." She was being honest about the insomnia, but she really wasn't feeling tired. She was worried.

When the night ended, Draco walked with Charlotte to Ravenclaw house, and took her aside, in a dark corridor that no one noticed.

"If anything or anyone is bothering you, you can tell me. I tell you my problems, well, most of the time, and I just wanna let you know I'm here for you, too," he lightly kissed her.

"Thanks, Draco," she tilted her head to one side, still curious about his concern for her well-being. With one hand, she slowly traced his jawline, and kissed him softly on the cheek. She bid him goodnight, and left the corridor, smiling almost sadly at him as she turned to go up the stairs to the portrait guarding the entrance.

Her unusual departure puzzled him greatly, and he waited in the shadows a moment before proceeding to his dormitory. As Draco headed back to Slytherin, by an alternate route, he was startled as Crabbe and Goyle stood before him suddenly.

"Evening, Malfoy," Crabbe sneered at him.

"Yes, a good evening to you, sir," Goyle added, smiling stupidly as well.

Draco kept walking, causing them to follow him if they wanted his attention. "What is it? Have you finally discovered that your heads are as big as Quaffles?" he smirked at his own joke.

"In fact, we have some big news for you, Malfoy," Goyle replied, almost happily, "It's about that 'tutor' of yours."

Draco had learned not to pause or react at the mention of Charlotte or anything to do with her, to keep their relationship a secret. "Oh you have, have you? What have your huge noses sniffed out this time?"

"Well, you have been spending a good amount of time with her, so we thought we'd do a background check. Just to make sure you weren't wasting your time, of course," Crabbe assured him. "Would you like to start, Gregory?"

Goyle cleared his throat. "Miss Charlotte LaRocque: sixth-year Ravenclaw, of very high standing in her class at Hogwarts. Birthday: July 12th, on the younger end of our year. Does very well in all of her classes. Born in Great Britain, spent a few years of her childhood in France, but mostly lived and grew up in Great Britain."

Draco nodded, listening, considering what he was hearing, as if for the first time. "Sounds like a solid background so far."

"Yes, but this is where it gets interesting," Crabbe ran his tongue over his lower lip, his excitement showing through, "Family background. Siblings: one, a boy named Adrian. Parents: mother named Grace, father named Frederic, living in the town of Wrenshire. That's all there is about her family. Nothing about what they do, like most students' records show. We looked into the name LaRocque, to see if her genius came from an especially smart magical member of her family, but nothing came up. There is no mention of her father or mother in Hogwarts' records of past students whatsoever."

At this, Draco frowned slightly, and asked, "What do you mean, no mention of her parents in the records? Surely her parents must have attended this school."

"That's the thing that we want to point out to you," Goyle said, "We have reason to believe that your tutor, the LaRocque girl, has Muggle parents. We're pretty certain that she's a Mudblood."

Draco began to frown, "You must be mistaken. Charlotte's father is a medical wizard, who travels to help Wizarding folk in lesser countries, and she's far too knowledgeable and able in magic to be…"

"That's the issue," Crabbe shrugged, "There's no mention of a medical wizard named LaRocque anywhere in the registration of Great Britain's Wizarding folk."

Draco frowned, unsure exactly how to react. His mind was going in circles as he tried to get a grip on his emotions. His expression was muddled.

Goyle patted Draco on the back heartily, "Now you can go set that Mudblood straight, tell her that her kind can't tell you what to do or how to learn all that pointless information. I'll bet you could even get her to do your homework for you; save you all that time that you've been wasting getting tutored." He laughed.

Draco didn't respond, and the two oafs looked at him, confused.

"Are… are you all right, Malfoy?" one asked him; Draco didn't care which one.

The other added, "You look a little upset. Is there anything wrong?"

Draco shook his head, and said, "No, I'm fine. Glad to be informed of my misunderstanding of Miss LaRocque, and I'm going to take action." His expression was composed, and devious as always, masking his inner disarray. He returned to the dormitory of Slytherin, and spent the evening talking of dark, sinister things with his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.

* * *

The following night, while Charlotte and Draco did homework in their study, Draco watched her work, slowly realizing what might have been troubling her of late. As the night progressed, a question, prompted by Crabbe and Goyle's discoveries, was burning in his throat, as he really desired to ask what he'd suspected since last night. He was hesitant, as he was afraid of how the answer, either way, would affect her and cause him to react. He finally sighed, and spoke.

"Hey, Charlotte? I have a question for you."

"Sure," she responded pleasantly, not looking up from the scroll of parchment she was writing on, "What is it, Draco?"

He sat up straight, "When did your parents graduate from Hogwarts?"

Her writing slowed, but didn't stop, as she said, "They didn't."

"They didn't graduate? Did they have to drop out?" Draco frowned.

She shook her head, "No, they didn't attend Hogwarts."

"Oh, then, did your father go to Durmstrang? And your mother attend a different European Wizarding school?" Draco was starting to get a bit uneasy.

She slowly shook her head again, and she had totally stopped writing. Charlotte began to panic, but tried her hardest to keep her composure. Her worry about revealing her background was starting to come to light. She looked up at him, trying to appear calm.

"You don't mean to tell me that your parents are…" his eyes started to widen.

"They're Muggles," she said plainly.

Draco suddenly got strangely upset. "You're..."

"Go ahead, say it," her voice wavered, her eyes starting to water. When he didn't speak, she continued, "I'm a, what do you like to call it? A Mudblood."

Draco was awestruck: Crabbe and Goyle were right. Their nosing about had revealed a dangerous secret about Charlotte, the girl he thought he knew. Draco suddenly got very upset. "How could you… why didn't you tell me that you were Muggle-born? I assumed all this time that you… How can that be?"

"Put the pieces together, Draco. There have been no other members of my family at this school, I prefer Muggle forms of communication and transportation, and when you were visiting my home, my parents used no magic whatsoever. My parents do ordinary things—my father is a physician in a Muggle hospital, and my mother stays home to take care of the house and tend to my little brother. In fact, I didn't even know I was a witch until I was 11 years old. If that doesn't spell out 'Muggle-born' to you, I don't know what does." Charlotte was on the verge of breaking down. She was starting to feel very afraid.

"I can't believe this," Draco fumed, "After all we've been through together, and you didn't tell me something this important sooner?"

"Had I known earlier that you were so passionately anti—Muggle-born, I would have told you straightaway. Then we probably wouldn't have gotten to this point. I desperately wanted to tell you, I was just afraid of how you would react, I…" she spoke softly, apologetically.

Draco stood, and began to pace, unsure what to do with this distress he was feeling. Everything he'd been taught told him that Muggle-borns weren't to be trusted, weren't worth the time of day. Yet here before him, was an obviously terrified Muggle-born witch that had earned Draco's trust, and, dare he say it: his love. His thoughts couldn't figure an answer to the conundrum before his very eyes.

Charlotte began to feel frightened, as if she had just signed her own death warrant. She began nervously rambling, "I can understand if you don't want to have me around anymore, if… you don't want your name tarnished by someone like me, I mean, someone of your standing probably wouldn't want to—"

"Shut your mouth, filthy Mudblood!" he snapped at her, his silver eyes cold, his expression one of irritation. Draco instantly regretted saying it, as the deeply injured look that crossed Charlotte's face caused him a sharp pain that he couldn't ignore.

She then stood, and, in tears, gathered her belongings and left the study in silence. She flashed him one last, mournful glance, and then departed, leaving the door ajar behind her. He could hear her sobs as she went down the hall, and Draco began to feel very empty, and as though his heart had been torn apart.

He looked at his Dark Mark, and shook his head regretfully. He muttered to himself, his voice full of fury and remorse, "What kind of a monster have I become?"


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Draco immediately began to feel guilty. He felt as though he had thrown Charlotte's kindness back in her face. She had accepted him being a Death Eater so quickly, trusting him even though he embodied one of her biggest fears. And now, because of his callous hatred of Muggle-borns, he'd driven her to tears, instilling new fear in her forgiving, kind heart. Draco hadn't noticed she was any different before, and had grown stronger because of her presence in his life. He tried to appear strong and resilient to his fellow students, but he couldn't argue the fact that he was deathly afraid of losing Charlotte. And he had most likely just broken her heart. He sighed, looked around the study, and gathered his things. He knew he wouldn't be welcome there anymore.

He went through the facts for the hundredth time in his mind, trying to convince himself that Charlotte really was Muggle-born. He mentally added another item to the list that she hadn't mentioned: the gorgeous dress she wore on the night of the Ball was handmade. He sighed, attempting to get a grip on his feelings. Had he really almost fallen for a Muggle-born witch? _His_ Charlotte, a brilliant witch, the sweetest and most kind person he'd ever known, was what he was supposed to hate the most: a Mudblood. He shook his head, feeling all mixed up, and left to do his homework in his dormitory.

* * *

"_Shut your mouth, filthy Mudblood!"_ Draco's words echoed through her mind over and over, the pain of rejection pulsing through her. The boy she had feelings for had just called her a monster. Charlotte felt absolutely worthless. She stormed down the hallway, ignoring people who she passed as she wiped her tears, and attempted to calm herself down. She dropped her books once, and paused to gather them up, stuffing them into her book bag haphazardly. She didn't look where she was walking, and bumped into someone. When she looked up, dark robes and a slightly menacing look startled her. She realized who it was, and tried to regain her composure.

"P…Professor Snape, I'm sorry, I… I wasn't paying attention to where I was going." She stuttered a bit, still flustered and upset.

Snape frowned, "Miss LaRocque? Is everything all right?" He laid a hand on her shoulder lightly, and felt her small frame heaving slightly with suppressed sobs.

"No, I… I'm fine, Professor, I've just…" she couldn't form a coherent sentence. After a deep breath, she continued, "I'm fine. It's just a stupid little thing, nothing to get upset about. I'm merely overreacting, is all."

"I daresay it isn't something small, Miss LaRocque." He raised an eyebrow, reading her expression, seeing the pain in it. He knew that pain all too well, and he hated to see her go through it. Charlotte looked down at her hands, and when she looked back up at him, tears threatening to start anew, Severus couldn't help but roll his eyes and continue, "Now then, I'm not very good at dealing with sentiments or matters of the heart, but I can offer you a warm cup of tea. Maybe some time with Bella will lift your spirits a bit?"

Charlotte was touched by his awkward attempt at making her feel better. She smiled faintly, and nodded. Snape led the way to his office, where she began to feel much better, after a cup of tea and a visit with the big vampire bat that resided there.

She soon stood to go, thanked the professor for the tea, and assured him that she was feeling much better. "Until tomorrow's class then, Professor."

As she turned to go, Snape caught her attention, "The Malfoys really are a dense lot, especially their only son. Don't let his hatred and cowardice get to you. If he knows what's good for him, he'll come around."

"Uh, thanks, Professor." Charlotte smiled, curious as to what the teacher might mean, but feeling a bit more hopeful as well.

* * *

With Valentine's Day coming up, letters and gifts from secret (and some not so secret) admirers abounded in Hogwarts. In fact, one Valentine's Day gift would go too far, and this one affected Draco indirectly.

One night, when Ronald Weasley accidentally consumed Harry Potter's entire box of love potion-laced Valentine chocolates, he sought Professor Slughorn's help. The Potions professor aided them, and to wash down the bad-tasting antidote to the potent love potion, Slughorn offered the red-haired boy a glass of wine, a gift he had been told to deliver to Dumbledore, but felt it was necessary to open now.

Upon taking a single sip, Ron began to foam at the mouth, and shudder as though possessed by a demon. Harry immediately gave Ron a bezoar, which relieved the poison's fatal effects, but left him bedridden for days. He had been sent to the Infirmary to recover. Slughorn had no idea that the wine was poisoned, and upon realizing the frightening fact that he might have killed the headmaster with this gift, accusations and suspicions began to fly. Draco wasn't worried, as he had covered his tracks effectively. He was disappointed, however, as yet another of his indirect attempts on the life of the headmaster had failed. He was beginning to dread the reality of his situation. He might actually have to face the headmaster himself, do the killing with his own hand.

* * *

As the days passed, when Draco saw Charlotte, he noticed she looked rather upset. She was mostly alone or with a few friends, trying to appear at ease, but when he'd pass her by, she'd tense up, and look pointedly away from him, avoiding his gaze at all costs. It really hurt Draco to see her like this, but he knew he deserved it. He wasn't sure what to do about it, if there even was anything he could do.

Hermione detected some note of sorrow in Charlotte's actions of late, and watched how her friend reacted closely, searching for the source of her pain. When Malfoy passed or even came within their line of sight, Charlotte would turn, almost visibly pinning her ears back with displeasure, a wounded gesture.

She decided to interrupt her friend's reverie, "What's wrong, Charlotte? You look like you're trying to kill Malfoy with your ice-cold thoughts. Not that I mind, but don't you usually get along all right with him?"

"He found out I was Muggle-born, and vilified me. I haven't talked to him since." She spoke, pained.

"I was afraid that would happen. I'm sorry. When his grades start to suffer, then he'll know he lost an important asset. He deserves to fail, at least in my book." She put a hand on her friend's shoulder, comfortingly.

Charlotte leaned into Hermione's hand, as if needing support. This confused Hermione, as it appeared she lost more than she was letting on. "Are you okay? Is there anything more that's bothering you?"

Charlotte shook her head, smiling amiably, "No, I'm fine. Simply worn out from a long week."

"All right," Hermione conceded, and they returned to a more positive topic of conversation. Charlotte brightened at the mention of a new topic, but Hermione was still pensive about whether something was bothering her.

* * *

A few days later, Charlotte found herself working in the library with a few students from one of her classes. They were working together on a paper that was to be a group project, due later in the week. It was a free day, conferences for the teachers, as well as a break in classes, and Charlotte's group had wanted to make the best of their free time. The conversation was mostly academic, but once the paper neared completion, it became more informal, almost gossipy.

"I heard that it was an attempt on the headmaster's life!"

"No, it couldn't be."

"Then why did Weasley almost die when he drank the wine meant for Dumbledore?"

At this, Hermione shifted uneasily, "If you'll excuse me, I need to… um, go tend to Hagrid's blast-ended skrewts." She glanced at Charlotte, who inclined her head knowingly.

Charlotte was well aware of the strong feelings Hermione had for Ron Weasley, and added, "That's fine! You have done more than your part. I know those skrewts need you more than we do." Hermione blushed slightly, and turned to leave. Charlotte knew she was on her way to the Infirmary, where she'd spent almost every non-class waking hour since Ron had been checked in.

Padma Patil restarted the conversation on the same topic, "Who do you think sent the wine to Slughorn?"

"The note said anonymous, so we can't know for sure!" Seamus Finnigan shrugged.

Parvati Patil spoke next, "I'll bet someone close to the underbelly of the school would know."

There was a pause, then Seamus snapped his fingers with inspiration, "I've got it! I bet Malfoy and his group know who is behind it."

"I heard he might even be suspected." Cormac McLaggan interjected. He turned to Charlotte, "What do you think, LaRocque? I thought you were rather close to him, did you pick up on any cold-hearted assassin vibes from him?"

Charlotte bristled, but replied calmly, "I was only his tutor, so I can't say for sure. Cold-hearted, certainly, but that's his persona. But Draco Malfoy, an assassin? I don't think he has it in him." She found herself defending him, even though he had hurt her. She had never really gotten along that well with Cormac, as despite his charming good looks, all Charlotte saw was a hollow personality. She was nice to him, but smoothly rebuffed his advances at every instance.

"I don't know him that well either," Parvati added, furrowing her brow.

"The only people he lets near him are those louts, Crabbe and Goyle," Seamus sighed.

Cormac kept his gaze on Charlotte, his eyes flashing darkly, suggestively. "I'll bet you could get at least some answer from him, LaRocque: just threaten to stop tutoring him, and he'll tell you anything you want to know."

She frowned at him, "No, Cormac, I couldn't. Malfoy made it very clear that I was of no more use to him, as a tutor or otherwise. The only thing I could get from him is a cold stare and maybe even an insult or two."

Seamus added, eagerly, "Maybe that makes him more of a suspect!"

Padma rolled her eyes, "Sure, he's a jerk, but I don't think he has any reason to hate Dumbledore. Someone out there wants him dead, and I don't know why."

Charlotte had heard enough, and stood up abruptly. Padma raised an eyebrow at her, and asked, "Are you all right, Charlotte?"

"Oh, I'm just tired. Look, I have to go, I'll see you all later." She left, the group looking curiously after her for a moment, then starting on a different topic of scandal or rumor.

Charlotte wandered out into the hallways, and tried to focus on an upcoming presentation in Defense Against the Dark Arts. All that talk of Draco Malfoy and his ill intentions had put her in a downcast mood. She didn't for a single minute contest that he was most likely up to no good, but she couldn't help defending him to her peers. The fact that Charlotte had been pointedly avoiding Draco Malfoy as of late made her more edgy when he was mentioned in conversation. She was avoiding him for fear of what he would say to her, what he would do now that he knew what she was: a Mudblood.

Suddenly, she heard her name being called by a familiar, earnest voice. Her face fell, as she knew that voice all too well, and the way her heart leapt at the sound was met with an equally strong feeling of stabbing dread.

_~~~~~~~~(Earlier that morning...)~~~~~~~~_

Draco was feeling very lost. His last stunt to kill the headmaster had severely backfired, putting yet another fellow student in mortal danger. Suspicion had grown against him, and he was feeling an immense amount of pressure on many fronts. When Charlotte was there, he could vent about the difficulties associated with being a Death Eater that he went through every day. He had even admitted to her that he had been assigned a terrible task. He didn't tell her what it was, but the way she took his hand when he told her how hard it was made him feel as though he still had some of his humanity left, and that she would be there for him through anything. His Dark Magic training with his Aunt Bellatrix had grown very taxing, and seeing her bright, smiling face each day had given him some hope that there was still some light in the world, and that life wasn't all about pain and suffering. He was amazed at how much he missed such small gestures of encouragement.

Draco loved that about her: how even after he told her some new, dark secret about being a Death Eater or how terrifying it all was, she would always smile at him and tell him that everything was all right, and that he didn't have to worry so much. He loved how she could see right through his façade, and almost always had been able to. He loved how her eyes sparkled when she was excited about something, and how her brown hair shimmered in the light of the hallways. He loved how she…

Suddenly Draco noticed what he was thinking: he _loved_ this about Charlotte, _loved_ that about her, he _loved_… could he possibly love _her_? He then realized that he, Draco Malfoy, was in love with Charlotte LaRocque! He couldn't bear to let go of someone he cared so deeply about, especially not someone he loved! He had only ever remembered feeling hate and disdain for most things, and an enjoyment of the suffering of those he deemed less important. Never had he known such a positive emotion or valued the companionship and presence of another human being so much! He desperately wanted her to know how he felt, but one big thing stopped him.

Each day he saw the pain his insensitivity had caused Charlotte. He saw it in her deep brown eyes every day when he passed her in the hallways or saw her in class. He hated that he was so stupid to have caused the girl he loved so much misery. Draco then knew what he had to do. He knew it might take a miracle for her to forgive him, and he knew that this relationship would be difficult and maybe dangerous for both of them in many ways, but he was willing to risk it all for her. He immediately stopped moping about in his room, and set out to find Charlotte.

"Charlotte! Miss LaRocque!" Draco ran to catch up with her.

"What do you want?" Charlotte asked softly, accusingly. She didn't look at him for fear of her voice betraying her underlying dread.

Draco took a moment to catch his breath, and finally spoke, "I want to talk to you." He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous action, continuing, "Charlotte, I'm sorry. I know that I'm a spiteful, tasteless jerk that finds fun in humiliating others. But you saw past that, and you were the first to do so, to find the good things in me. You were always so good to me, so sweet and kind, but I never did a thing to repay you. And when you found out I was a Death Eater, you sought me out and told me it was okay, that you still cared about me, even though you were afraid." He sighed, "You said you hoped I could do something like that for you someday, and that day is today. I love you, even though you're a Mudblood—I mean, Muggle-born. I don't care about that. I mean… you're everything to me, Charlotte. I would hate to lose you over some stupid blood issue."

"But I thought you didn't think I was worth your time anymore," she brightened at his words, but looked away quickly, still afraid to let him back into her heart.

"You're worth so much to me, I think I can look past the fact that you're not from a Wizarding family," he said sincerely.

"Honestly? You don't care that I'm Muggle-born?" She searched his eyes for a hint of deception, as Draco's eyes always revealed his true mindset no matter what he may say or do.

He shook his head, "No, I don't. In fact, I… I love you, Charlotte." He suddenly got very shy. "I'm sorry, that must've sounded ridiculous."

She shook her head, smiling, "Not at all! That was very sweet, Draco. You really are a wonderful boy."

He shook his head, "No, I'm not. I was so cruel to you, and I hate that about myself." Charlotte looked at him, surprised at how tolerant and mature he was acting. She let him continue, determination in his eyes, "I'm going to make up for it, I promise. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, Death Eater or not. I'm going to protect you from any harm, and prove that I do care about you, Charlotte."

He looked around fleetingly, making sure no one was around, and leaned down to kiss Charlotte in the middle of the hallway. He wrapped his arms around her, carefully, so as not to scare her off. She let him kiss her, and kissed him back just as gently.

Charlotte knew he was telling the truth, as she found nothing in his eyes to say otherwise. She whispered in his ear when he broke the kiss, "I love you, too, Draco Malfoy."

At this, his lips met hers once more, quickly, and he squeezed her tightly before releasing her from his embrace.

"Care to join me for lunch, _mon amour_?" Charlotte inquired, still amazed at his reaction.

"As you wish," he kept one hand resting lightly on the small of her back, as if guiding her. When people began filing into the hallway, Draco let his hand drop slowly, casually, and glanced at Charlotte dotingly. He regained his normal, high and mighty façade, and Charlotte rolled her eyes, smiling to herself. The rest of that day, the two of them were in high spirits.

Unbeknownst to Draco and Charlotte, Snape witnessed this occurrence from a safe distance, and was amused, if not the least bit pleased. Snape had noticed in his discreet watching over of Draco, that when he was around Charlotte, he acted more at ease, almost happier, and less uptight and snippety than when she wasn't with him. He'd even caught Draco in the act of giving Charlotte a kiss on the cheek in an otherwise empty corridor a few weeks previous. Snape didn't interfere when he saw them together, of course, and his observations actually made him a little happy for Draco, that he might be finding a little piece of happiness and light in his dark, shadowy life. He knew the boy would need it, as the time to truly test his ability as a Death Eater was fast approaching.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Paranoid. Suspicious. Apprehensive. Recently, these were common states of being for Draco thanks to the failure of his latest attempt on the headmaster's life. Since the night Ron Weasley accidentally drank the poisoned wine meant for Dumbledore, he felt the pressure to complete his task increase almost exponentially. He also started to get more paranoid, noticing even more that Harry Potter was watching his every move. Draco had to work hard to evade his notice when he was off to work on his Dark Magic. He had taken to using the Room of Requirement more and more, and began skipping meals because of the stress. Charlotte didn't think much of it, as he tended to skip meals when a big test was coming up, and he didn't miss more than one in a day. Sometimes he would invite Charlotte to keep him company in the Room of Requirement, and she rather enjoyed the room full of lost and forgotten things.

One day, she asked him, curious, "Draco, remind me why we are cooped up in here?"

"Because I don't want anyone to know what I am doing."

"And that is what, exactly?"

"I've told you, I'm working on my Dark Magic."

"That's right." She paused, "I've missed seeing you at lunch lately. Is everything all right?"

He answered quickly, "Of course, Charlotte! Everything is just fine."

"If you say so," she shrugged, and recommenced perusing a shelf of old and abandoned books.

"Blast!" She heard him mutter, after a series of crashes accompanied by the sound of shattering marble.

"Are you all right over there?" she called nonchalantly. Charlotte walked over to where he was standing, and took in his appearance. His clothes were disheveled, his hair was askew, and he wore an angry look on his face.

He finally responded, however brusquely, "Yeah, I just can't get this blasted spell right!" And with another forceful flick of his wand, a statue shattered.

"That looked pretty good," she said, trying to sound supportive.

He rolled his eyes, "But I'm not supposed to destroy it, I'm trying to enchant it, bring it to life, to do my whims."

She simply smiled, and took one of his hands. "Don't worry, you'll get there. Not that I should be encouraging anyone to dabble in the Dark Arts," she spoke, mocking scorn.

"But when you're dating a Death Eater, such hypocrisy is called for," he smoothed his hair down and took Charlotte in his arms, smiling deviously at her.

She laughed, "_Touché_."

He released her, and returned his focus to the statues scattered about the room. As Charlotte watched him work, something occurred to her. Draco appeared more stressed than usual. She was used to constant stress to some extent because of his being a Death Eater in hiding, but this intensity of stress was new to her. She had dismissed it as merely his usual stress level, but the more she thought about it, she realized that it had increased over the past week or so, and almost in a different way.

Charlotte took the opportunity to ask him, "Draco? You've been looking rather distressed lately. Is there something going on, or something upsetting you?"

He dropped his wand arm to his side, and ran his hand through his hair, speaking a little uneasily, "Charlotte, I… I don't want to talk about it. It's nothing."

"Oh," she looked down, defeated, "I just wanted to help. You look almost… afraid of something. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude."

"It's not like I don't want to tell you, I'm just afraid it'll put you in more danger…"

"More danger? I'm a Muggle-born witch who's dating one of You-Know-Who's loyal followers! I'm not sure how much more dangerous my life could get." She stood, and faced away from him, a little incensed. "It's like you're shutting the world out of your life—always closing yourself up in the Room of Requirement so you won't be discovered— and now you're keeping things from me."

He didn't want her to feel like she didn't trust him, so he admitted, "Okay, fine! I'm afraid someone is tailing me. Enough people suspect that I'm not on the good side as it is, and now I fear someone took initiative to have me followed. Two house elves have been following me around, and it's taken so much effort to avoid them when I go to spend time with you or to find solace and practice my Dark Arts." Draco burst out, strained.

Charlotte began to speak, but Draco continued on, "If I… if I fail at this, my whole family will be…" he trailed off, suddenly holding his wrist.

"They will be…what?" Charlotte gently asked, lightly taking his wrist in her hands. Draco's tear-filled eyes met Charlotte's sincere ones.

He took a deep breath and continued, in a defeated tone, "If I fail at my task, my entire family may be killed. And if I'm discovered mid-year, I'll never be able to carry out my mission, and prove to the Dark Lord that I'm worthy of his respect, or at least some mercy."

"Oh, Draco, I had no idea there was so much pressure on you," Charlotte embraced him, consolingly. "What can I do to help? Do you want me to take care of your being tailed?"

"That would be delightful." He smiled at her.

Charlotte assured him, "Not a problem, _mon amí_. I shall start on that straightaway!" She started towards the door, and Draco grabbed her hand, stopping her. "What is it?"

He whispered, "We have to listen for a sign that the coast is clear. Crabbe and Goyle are keeping watch outside. They can't get in, but I've made it clear that they have to guard this room when I'm in here or else."

"Do they know I'm in here with you?"

At this, Draco smirked faintly, "No, as a matter of fact, they don't."

"That does pose something of a problem, then…" she looked about, and sighed. "Perhaps the Room of Requirement's exit may be somewhere different than the entrance, if you need it to be. It is under your command, after all."

Draco nodded, and closed his eyes, thinking deeply. Charlotte went to the door, and when she opened it experimentally, she said, "Splendid! Opens into another corridor, and there's no one in sight." She shut the door and turned back to him, "Will I see you at dinner, then?"

"Not tonight, I have an appointment with Snape about my grades or something," he rolled his eyes, then met her inquiring gaze, adding, "But afterwards, in your study, as always. I'll be there no matter what."

She grinned, and replied, "All right. Until then, _mon amour_!" Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed him on the cheek. Draco couldn't help but blush a bit at her touch, his face still warm as she walked out the door.

Draco continued to try his spells, improving visibly, and in looking at the clock in the Room of Requirement some time later, he decided he shouldn't probably keep Snape waiting. He left the Room, made sure Crabbe and Goyle knew that they could stand down in their watching of the place, and return to normal activities. He went down to the dungeon, where Snape's office was, to see what it was he wanted.

He knocked, and the door opened, as if of his own accord. Snape was reading something rather interesting to him, clearly outside of grading essays, as a pile of unread rolls of parchment lay neatly in a box next to is desk. When Draco entered, Snape smoothly returned the small bundle of paper to its place under his desk and spoke coolly to the boy.

"You're nearly on time, for once. What's motivated you to be so punctual, Malfoy?" He raised an eyebrow, suspicious. "Something important on your agenda?"

Draco frowned, but retained his calm tone, "No, Professor, I simply am doing as I was told. You said half past six in the evening, and here I am, at half past. Is it wrong for me to be on time?"

The black-haired professor replied, "Of course not. It simply isn't very much like you. In fact, you're breaking a lot of your behavioral patterns. For instance, you're usually making everyone wait on you, so that they bow to whenever it's convenient for you." He paused, thoughtful, "You appear to be doing better in school, and you've been more punctual in terms of homework and meetings, is something going on?"

"No, professor," he retorted, "Is that why you called me here? To point out that I haven't been as much of a jerk lately?"

Snape shook his head and replied, "I wanted to ask you about your thoughts on Weasley's poisoning." He watched the blonde-haired boy's reaction to his inquiry with the utmost curiosity.

At mention of this, Draco paled a bit, which was hard, seeing as his complexion was already quite fair. "What of it? Did he lose his mind?"

"No, but he very nearly lost his life. The person who sent the wine to Dumbledore wanted him dead only signed his/her name 'Anonymous', but there are some clues as to who may have been the one to send it." Snape narrowed his eyes at Draco, "Any thoughts on the matter, Malfoy?"

Draco frowned again, "Of course not! I have no idea who did that, but whoever did send him the wine had a good idea, but wasn't thorough enough to see the job done all the way through. Actually a cowardly move, on his or her part, if you ask me, Snape."

"Oh, really? Sounds very much like a Slytherin I know," Snape scoffed, "Draco, I've seen the wine, and noted the manner in which it was placed, meant for Dumbledore. There are some similarities, some ways to connect the two, but I have yet to disclose this information to anyone else. You were responsible for the necklace episode, and I fear you are responsible for this, too."

"They never found out that I sent the necklace! My involvement in the attempt was never proven!" he defended, and then added warily, "And if I was, per say, responsible for this more recent fiasco, don't I have your ultimate protection from the likes of them? You made an Unbreakable Vow, right? You have to protect me from being discovered, from being unable to finish my task!"

"You're making it very difficult to do so, Malfoy," Snape nearly growled, "And I've offered my help to you multiple times. I made sure you were never found out in the necklace case, but it was very difficult. Still you reject my aid in your ultimate duty to the Dark Lord."

"Well, if it happens to be that I am the 'anonymous' person who sent the wine to Dumbledore," he stood, indignant, "they'll never figure out a way to pin it on me. And I won't need you to do it for me, _Severus_."

He turned to go, and Snape stopped him, "You need to be careful in your actions, boy, people you love are going to get hurt." Draco paused, and let him continue, "You already are the target of some accusations, but you always cover your tracks well, and most people dismiss you as merely a troublemaker, not a murderer. "

"What do you mean, people I love?" Draco turned on Snape, "What are you talking about? There is my family, sure, but it's not like I have anyone else to defend, so I'm doing fine!"

"Is that so? Then what of the Mudblood you spend so much time with?" Snape hinted at him, and saw recognition and slight fear flicker in Draco's eyes. "She's put herself in an interesting position, and it's on your hands if something happens to her. I know how close you two are, and how much need for caution there really is."

The boy began, a little incredulous, "Me? Waste my time with a stupid Mudblood? I think not! And how would you even know if I…"

"I've been watching over you, young Master Malfoy. You don't think I wouldn't notice if you gained a little filly to fawn over?" he paused, organizing his thoughts into terms Draco would understand. "Here is how I see it: you need to watch what you do, Draco, or she could get severely hurt. I'd hate to see your first chance for happiness get taken away or destroyed because of one stupid move. It won't be done by my hand, as I find your relationship rather amusing and maybe the least bit touching… but I can't say the same for the _others_." Snape lightly brushed his left wrist, hinting to the other Death Eaters.

Draco's eyes widened slightly, worried, but he regained his composure and replied to the professor, "I thank you for your concern, Professor, and I will keep your words in mind, but I haven't the slightest idea of what you're talking about. Is there anything else?"

"Only that you're doing exceedingly well in my class, and I'm glad to see you succeed at something other than being a haughty, no-good rich boy I've had to deal with through the years. It's about time a Slytherin student such as yourself did as well as you are," Snape held the door open for Draco, "…even if he is being aided by a Ravenclaw." Before Draco was out of earshot, Snape added, "Remember my warning, Malfoy. You don't want her getting hurt."

Draco stopped in his walking down the corridor, his mind filling with images of Charlotte in pain, being tortured by Death Eaters, and in all kinds of trouble. At these thoughts, Draco began to feel stabbing fear. He turned to the tall, greasy-haired professor with a look of worry. Snape merely nodded to him, and closed the door to his office with a meaningful firmness.

Draco wandered to Charlotte's study, unable to clear his mind of the anguish he could picture Charlotte enduring at the hands of other Death Eaters, or worse: the Dark Lord himself! He shuddered at the thought, and when Charlotte entered a while later, dinner having just ended, he almost visibly emanated some newfound tension, as he reacted to her every move and every sound with a slightly overprotective air.

Charlotte noticed this, "You are so jittery, _mon_ _amour_, what's going on?"

In response, Draco merely embraced her, holding her tightly to his chest. He couldn't bear to think about all that could happen if his carelessness caused her suffering, and he definitely couldn't bear to lose her. So, he resolved to be extra careful, and, for once, take Snape's advice. For some reason, Snape's evident concern for his personal life and well being gave Draco the hunch that the professor knew what he was talking about from personal experience, and didn't want to admit that he cared. He could never imagine Severus Snape fawning over a girl in his own awkward way, and was pretty sure that he never married or had any children. No matter how strange it sounded, Snape was right, and Draco had to watch himself so he didn't cause his one love suffering.

"I just… I don't want to lose you," he managed to say.

Charlotte replied, calmly, "I'm not going anywhere, Draco. I promise." She inhaled deeply, sighing into the embrace she knew and loved so well. Although he seemed thinner than usual, almost more frail and bony, she still leaned into him affectionately. Charlotte suspected there was something on his mind, something that was causing Draco a new anxiety, but didn't press the issue, giving him some breathing room, for fear of smothering him. She was unaware that this mystery issue would directly concern her, and how close she was to young Master Malfoy.


	22. Chapter 22

"_You thought you could keep a secret from us?" Bellatrix screeched, reaching for something out of view. Her hand returned into view, sinister fingers tangled in a mess of chocolate brown hair, Charlotte attached. "I can imagine letting the girls fawn over you, but letting one so close is risky, Draco. And what's worse, she's a Mudblood! Ha! Have you gone mad?" She laughed her terrible laugh._

"_No, I haven't! I've just…"_

"_Fallen in love, is it? Well, you can't do that, especially with someone as ordinary, low-class, stupid, poor, and disgusting as a filthy Mudblood! Death Eaters aren't allowed to marry below their class, and for this, you and your little girlie will suffer immense pain both inside and out!"_

_Draco's mother drifted into the scene, "What's all this racket, Bella?"_

"_Your worthless son has become a blood traitor, falling for a Muggle-born witch. Isn't that terrible?" Bellatrix whined._

"_Absolutely dreadful. Draco, you're a disgrace to your family and the Dark Lord. Continue, sister, I see no fault in your actions." His mother shrugged, and dismissed him with a wave of her hand._

"_Mother, can't you see? She's not a monster!" Draco pleaded, "Let her go! She didn't do anything to upset you, she's of no importance to you! Let her go, and punish me! I don't want her hurt. I… I love her."_

_At this, Bellatrix erupted into laughter once again, "Oh, this is rich! The Malfoy boy is in love with a Mudblood! What'll happen next? The Dark Lord will turn to the Light? Ha!" She revealed a small, sharp dagger from inside of her dress, and turned it towards Charlotte, smiling a devilish smile._

"_No! BELLATRIX!" Draco meant to scream it, but all that came out was a small yell._

"_Is the mouse finally trying to use his voice? Ha!" She threw her head back, laughing, pointing her dagger at Charlotte, who was already covered in cuts and bruises. As she swung the dagger, everything went black…_

* * *

Draco sat bolt upright in his bed, drenched in a cold sweat. This wasn't the first of the nightmares he'd had, and each one left him feeling utterly helpless and afraid. He glanced at the bedside clock, and it read 3:14am. He took a deep breath, steadied himself, and sighed as he got a grip on reality. Charlotte was fine, he had seen her earlier that night, and they had spoken as usual in her study, of homework and random thoughts. His dreadful aunt and the rest of the Death Eaters were unaware of Charlotte and what the two of them had. Draco recalled their chaste goodnight kiss, and Charlotte's laugh echoed in his head, as he began focusing his mind to try and relax again. It took him some time, but he eventually fell back to sleep.

* * *

The next morning before breakfast, he found himself searching the hallways almost frantically for any sign of Charlotte, making sure she was still safe and sound. He finally saw her, smiling as she approached, and was reminded of how silly he was being, reacting so foolishly to a mere dream. Charlotte was there, with him, out of sight, her hand in his giving him immense comfort.

"Something's on your mind, isn't it, Draco?" she asked perceptively.

He shook his head, "No, of course not, my dear. I'm simply tired, seeing as I had a long night last night."

"You did? Anything the matter?"

"Nothing at all, simply insomnia thanks to a racing mind," he tried to smile.

"All right," Charlotte embraced him, "I have to get going. I'm talking to my History professor this morning about my latest paper. Talk to you later, all right?" She turned to go, but turned back at Draco's gentle squeezing of her hand, "Yes?"

"I love you, Charlotte," he whispered, lightly.

"I love you too, Draco." She kissed him, and noticed how much thinner he appeared to be getting. She ignored it, hoping it was simply her imagination.

Draco trailed to the Great Hall, and ate his breakfast slowly, dreading his classes for that day. He was terribly tired, it was as if the dream he'd had exhausted him. As three fellow Slytherins sat near him, he was aware of their soft chatter. He ignored it for the most part, until something caused his name to come up. At this, Draco listened carefully, yet not obviously.

"Did you guys hear talking last night?" a boy with well-styled brown hair spoke smugly.

A younger boy spoke next, "Yes, was there someone awake at two in the morning having a conversation?"

"It sounded rather creepy, as though someone was possessed." The third boy, a fourth year with curly hair added.

"Yeah, well, it woke me up. It started off as mumbling, and then a few single nonsense words, so I dismissed it. Later, there was moaning and whining, and phrases like 'No, stop' and 'It's not what you think' and 'Leave us alone'."

"Whoa, I didn't know it was actually words! I just heard gibberish and noise from where I was."

"Yeah, then what, Weston?" the fourth year asked the first boy anxiously.

Weston sniggered, "I went over to investigate. You wouldn't believe who it was!" he paused for effect, "The boy who was crying and whining in his sleep was that haughty sixth year, Draco Malfoy!"

The three boys erupted into fits of loud laughter, and when the youngest of the group saw Draco a few spots from where they were sitting, he nudged the other two anxiously and motioned towards the white blond-haired boy picking at his breakfast. When Weston and the other boy looked at Draco, they stopped laughing, but after a moment, Weston sneered.

"What's wrong, Draco?" he snickered, "Do you miss your Mum? Don't have anyone to chase away the bad dreams?"

The three began laughing again, and the other two started mocking him, whining and laughing, as they taunted him, "No!" "Let me go!" "Don't take me away!" "Mommy, save me!"

Draco blushed, and was about to bark back a snarky retort, but he simply stood, and stormed out, fighting back burning, embarrassed tears. He left his breakfast at his place, and walked out of the Great Hall without looking back once, not caring if he bumped into people.

He looked around, wondering where he could go so that he couldn't be followed or judged by the people who taunted and teased him. He raced upstairs to an empty boys bathroom, and locked the door behind him. He made sure he was alone, and once he felt secure, he fell to his knees and broke down, tears pouring down his face. He had no idea he'd been talking in his sleep, and probably did a lot, since his dreams were getting progressively worse, and he felt so ashamed and embarrassed.

As he sobbed, he heard a faint voice, "What is it, Malfoy? Get beat up by a girl again?"

Draco looked up, and saw a mostly transparent girl sitting on a sink not too far from him. A ghost, but not just any ghost: Moaning Myrtle. "Of course I didn't! What are you doing here, anyway? Don't you usually haunt girls' bathrooms? Leave me alone." He frowned at her, wiping his eyes, trying to appear angry.

"Why are you crying? You can tell me, I'm excellent at keeping secrets. But, it's up to you." She shrugged, and began to disappear into a nearby wall.

"Wait," he reluctantly said, rolling his eyes as he did so, "I just need to vent. Get my feelings out. Can you just sit there and listen, and not tell anyone what I said to you or even that you talked to me?"

"I always enjoy a little gossip! Go ahead, my lips are sealed." She agreed, and sat back on the edge of a sink, fidgeting with a leaky faucet.

"Everybody keeps taunting me! It's always about the stupidest things—that I'm a coward, or a wimp, or all talk and no action, and that sort of thing—and those dolts have no idea the kind of pressure I'm under…" he kept going, but soon, he trailed off, and looked about him. Moaning Myrtle had faded into the wall, having gotten bored with his commentary. He frowned, and demanded that she return. She reluctantly floated back into his view, and he added that the fact that younger students were making fun of him today made him feel especially worthless, and humiliated.

"Well," Myrtle said apathetically, "it looks like you're in quite a muddle." She shrugged and entirely disappeared without another word.

Draco looked about in outrage, "Moaning Myrtle, you useless wraith! I'm glad you left, now I can _really_ take a few moments to gather my thoughts."

He took a deep breath, looked about to make sure that no one was around, sat on a bench near the closest wall, and buried his face in his hands, crying audibly. He felt a cold, hollow pressure on his shoulder, and knew Moaning Myrtle had returned and placed a hand on his back, if only because she had nothing else to do. He soon thought of Charlotte, and the thought of her brought him out of his funk, to some extent. These pleasant thoughts gave him the ability to make sure he didn't look too wretched on his way to Charms Class.

He composed himself, and entered the class as if nothing was wrong, no matter how late he was. Professor Flitwick, demanded to know why Draco was late to his class. Draco explained, "Personal affair I had to deal with, an old family member deathly ill… but, no matter. Continue with your lecture, professor."

Students at Hogwarts had been practicing Apparation, but Draco opted out of those lessons, seeing as he already knew how to Apparate, and in a much more dark, defined way. If he Apparated in school, his strictly Death Eater technique for doing so would immediately reveal what he was, and he couldn't afford such a blatant display. Although he was of age, he was still able to opt out of them.

That afternoon, there were only three people in his Potions class: himself, a Hufflepuff student named Ernie, and Harry Potter. Draco did not care to be in class that morning, he would much prefer to be in the Room of Requirement, working on getting closer to completing his mission to the Dark Lord. His mind flashed back to earlier that morning.

"_I'm so nervous!" Charlotte fidgeted with her wand, her brow furrowed in hesitation. _

"_What for?" Draco asked nonchalantly. _

_She frowned at him, "Apparating exams are today. I'm terribly worried that I won't pass!"_

"_You're fine, Charlotte. If it were I in your place, I'd be sunk. I'm terrible at Apparating that way." He rolled his eyes as he spoke._

_She caught him off guard, "Wait a minute, you're 17, and you aren't taking the Apparating exams? And what do you mean, Apparating '_that way'_?"_

"_I, um, well," he quickly recovered, "Let's just say Death Eaters do something darker and more difficult than normal Apparation. I learned normal Apparation ages ago, and I was wretched at it."_

_She shrugged, as her mind was preoccupied with anxiety and such for the looming exams. She hiccupped, and Draco looked at her, an eyebrow raised._

"_What?" She asked, "Haven't you noticed before? Whenever I get extremely nervous for something, I get the hiccups! It's rather bothersome, I…"_

_Draco cut her off, his mouth covering hers in a kiss, which took her completely by surprise. When he backed up, she looked up at him, confused. He chuckled, "You're hardly ever this nervous, forgive me for being amused at how you react. In fact, I think it's rather endearing. You'll pass the exams with flying colors, Charlotte. Don't stress out and just give it your all. That's what you're always saying to me, right? And it appears to be working."_

_She blushed, and thanked him. "You going to be all right in Potions today?"_

"_Sure I am. It'll be an easy day with everyone taking the Apparating exams."_

"_All right. Here I go. Bye!" and she dashed out of their hiding place unnoticed by the masses of students heading for the Great Hall. Draco remained, contemplating how he could even call the Death Eaters' means of travelling Apparation. It was far more sinister: a mass of black robes streaming from place to place like some terrible specter searching for its next victim…_

His thoughts were interrupted by Slughorn's boisterous laugh and annoying anecdote about how it was for him to Apparate for the first time. Draco tuned him out automatically, returning to contemplating and analyzing his thoughts.

Why was it that he could never fully focus on one thing at a time? Maybe it had to do with the lack of sleep he was getting. Charlotte had mentioned that he needed to relax, to rest more and recover from his long, late-night escapades dabbling in the Dark Arts, for his mission. He sighed, replaying the earlier scene in his head, and with that recent memory, he attempted to draw on his concentration ability, as Slughorn was beginning to address the class.

"So," he began, "All too young to Apparate? Not turned seventeen yet?"

Draco shrugged, then shook his head, following suit of the other two boys in attendance that day in Potions.

"Ah well," the professor spoke almost merrily, "Since there are so few in attendance today, we'll do something unusual, something fun. I want you all to brew me something amusing."

The other two boys replied something sycophantically, but Draco retorted, irritably, "What do you mean, 'something amusing'?"

"Oh, surprise me!" Slughorn smiled.

Draco rolled his eyes, and, sulking, opened his Potions book and looked for an 'amusing' potion. He finally settled on a Hiccupping Solution, thinking of Charlotte and her extremely nervous habit. He went about putting it together, his mind in other places, but he finally finished it. Definitely not his best work, but when he called Slughorn over, he expected some sort of praise. At least he came to class that day, unlike most other students.

"Well…" the professor looked over Draco's potion, and finally shrugged, "It's a nice idea, possibly amusing, but your effort in creating it was at most… passable."

Draco frowned at him, put out slightly, but his mood soured even more as Slughorn went directly to Harry Potter and began to praise him as if he was heaven's gift to Potions class. He rolled his eyes and instantly began to pack up his things, not wanting to hear all Slughorn had to say about the _wonderful_ Harry Potter.

Draco began to walk down the corridor leading from the Potions classroom, his mind on his looming task, and on Charlotte, how she was doing in her exams. He soon heard footsteps behind him, and glanced back. It took him all he had not to walk faster away from the footsteps behind him. It was then that he heard the voice of the person who followed him.

"Hey! Malfoy!" Harry Potter called after him, "I need to speak with you."

Draco stopped walking, and his shoulders fell. "What do you want, Potter? Are you here to rub your apt abilities in Potions in my face? Are you here to make fun of me too, like everybody else in this bloody school?" he spat, angrily.

Harry frowned slightly, "No, I, uh… I'm just checking up on you. Ever since you broke my nose on the train—"

"It's too bad it didn't stay broken. It would've been an improvement to your shaggy, unkempt appearance," Draco sneered.

Harry's frown deepened, "Since that night on the train, I've suspected you're up to something. By the way, why do you look so thin?"

"Always suspecting!" he laughed bitterly, "Always has to be something going on, something less than squeaky clean for the Golden Boy Harry Potter to sniff out and save the world from! Isn't that right, 'Chosen One'?"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry muttered, "I am merely making sure you don't sneak off, that you aren't doing anything suspicious…"

Draco cut him off, "And having me followed by two pesky house-elves—a humiliating experience, seeing as one of them used to serve my family— wasn't enough for you then? Did you find anything out form that venture? Anything out of the ordinary? Anything devious and wrong?"

Harry's confidence began to fade, "Well, I… no, but I found out you go to the Room of Requirement often, and—"

"Hundreds of students use the Room of Requirement for who knows how many things!" He sighed, covering up his activities with a half-true story, "I am getting tutored, and that's my choice of venue. There, are you happy with your discovery?"

Harry was taken by surprise at his explanation. For Draco to admit that he was being tutored was a big thing, but there was still something about it that Harry was suspicious of. "I'm sorry, I didn't know, I…"

"Of course you didn't. You're too busy blaming me for the problems at this school. Now go and find your scapegoats and Death Eaters elsewhere." Draco turned around, and started to walk away.

"Who said anything about Death Eaters, Malfoy?" Harry retorted, suddenly gaining confidence.

Draco was taken off guard, but hid it expertly, "Everybody talks at this school, Potter, everyone knows that you're hunting for a follower of You-Know-Who to blame for all of this drama, and that's what they're called, I believe," he sounded nonchalant, almost dismissive of the topic.

"You would know, wouldn't you, Draco? Your father's in Azkaban for his crimes as a Death Eater."

"Shut up about that, Potter!" Draco doubled back on him angrily.

"But you must be pretty close to all of that Dark Magic stuff, isn't that right?"

Draco began to insult Harry for being insolent and prying, but he took a deep breath and decided to try to keep a cool head. He needed to avoid more suspicion. He instead tossed his head, disdainful, and muttered, "Even if I was, who says I'd use it? I can't end up in trouble, I need to uphold the Malfoy family image."

"Which is pretty poorly depicted at the moment, if I do say so myself," Harry shrugged, trying to incite some kind of revealing reaction in Draco.

"Shut up, Potter. You don't know what you're talking about. It's not as if you even have a family, so why worry about image if there's nothing there?" Draco scoffed. "I need to get to my next class, I don't have time for petty squabbling."

Draco could tell he'd made Harry mad. Probably not a good thing for him, but it sounded like normal Draco Malfoy behavior, so it hopefully got Harry off his trail for the time being.

Harry then retorted, "One of these days, Malfoy, I'll catch you doing something wrong, just you watch. And when that happens, you'll be sorry. You'll be so sorry you ever tried to disgrace the Potter name."

At this, Draco simply walked away, as if he were ignoring him. Inside, Draco somewhat feared what he meant. Would Harry be able to catch him? If he did, what would he do? He pushed the thought from his head and went through the day, trying to maintain normalcy.

He went to Charlotte's study that afternoon, Draco's favorite hideaway for the two of them, only to be nearly tackled moments later by an ecstatic Charlotte.

"Charlotte?" Draco laughed, amused, "I'm guessing the exams went all right?"

"They went brilliantly!" She was all smiles, "I passed them all. And now I can Apparate if ever I need to. Not that I prefer that to a nice gallop through the forest, there's nothing quite like that, but I passed them!"

"That's wonderful, Charlotte."

They spent the evening together, talking, laughing, and relaxing. Draco promised Charlotte he'd go to bed earlier that night, and catch up on his sleep, but he knew that he'd simply lie in bed, his mind going crazy. He failed to mention anything about his spat with Harry Potter to his elated little filly, as he didn't want to ruin Charlotte's mood, but being with her lessened his worry considerably. He was oh-so-unaware of the pain his brush with Potter would cause him in the near future.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Soon, the bright, cheery days of April drew to a close and summery May was on its way. Draco was amazed at how time had flown during this busy year. He was also getting increasingly worried. Dumbledore had been around more often, and Draco was presented with many chances to kill the headmaster, but he simply folded at each opportunity. He soon realized that he would have to practice killing spells, and work on ensuring the smoothness of transporting bigger things between the Vanishing Cabinets, for when the time came for the rest of the Death Eaters to break into Hogwarts.

That day his morning classes lasted longer than usual, so he was forced to eat later. By the time he arrived, lunch was nearly over, but he sought out a place to sit down anyway. It was then that he saw Harry Potter, talking to someone, a girl who he recognized, but couldn't place why. His heart filled with dismay when he realized exactly whom Harry was talking to.

"Katie! Can I speak with you?" Harry spoke eagerly to Katie Bell, and they conversed about something, Draco wasn't paying that much attention. That is, he didn't pay much attention until Harry said something crucial, "…that necklace... can you remember who gave it to you?"

Draco began to worry, maybe his disguise wasn't as great as he'd hoped, but her reply calmed him greatly, "No, everyone's been asking me, but I haven't a clue." He breathed a sigh of relief.

He was relieved, but still wore an expression of worry. This was a mistake, as Harry saw Draco eavesdropping, and flashed him a questioning look. He frowned at Draco, but Draco simply turned and left the Hall, regaining his nonchalant façade and forgetting about lunch.

When he arrived in his first afternoon class early, Charlotte flashed him a pleasant smile, but it quickly shifted into a look of concern. "Draco?" she whispered, as Slughorn had begun to speak, "You look as though you've had quite a scare. What's wrong?"

He shrugged, trying to replace the uneasy, pitiful look on his face with one of his usual arrogance, "It's nothing. I… it's just been a rather stressful morning. Do you, by chance, have any food on you? I missed lunch."

She nodded, and handed him a sandwich she had gotten from the elves in the kitchen. When Draco thanked her, she smiled in response, and gently squeezed his hand under the table, out of everyone's sight. He really was getting thinner, and his face looked more hollowed out than she thought. Charlotte had to fight to keep herself from looking at him constantly, inspecting his every feature to make sure there was nothing else amiss she hadn't noticed before.

* * *

As the days dragged on, Draco was even more on edge, doing all he could to prepare for the arrival of the other Death Eaters and the murder of Dumbledore. Harry Potter hadn't been able to find him doing anything terrible thus far, and he was glad, because he was starting to bend under the immense pressure of the approaching need for action, and he didn't know if he could do much to defend himself.

One morning, Draco awoke feeling much better than he had been for many nights before. The night before had been difficult; he'd broken down multiple times, and was an emotional wreck. It happened once in front of Charlotte, and he felt ashamed of it, but she simply held him close and let him cry on her shoulder for as long as he needed. He desperately desired to tell Charlotte what was going on, why he was so worried and so easily upset, but he knew he couldn't. Having her there with him, holding him so tightly, trying to reassure him, promising she was there for him no matter what, made everything he dealt with a little easier to bear. After a long, tough night, he finally got to sleep, and woke up the next morning feeling like a new man. He was ready to start a new day, and tackle whatever challenges thrown at him without trouble.

He walked purposefully to the Great Hall, and looked for a place to sit so he could eat breakfast. He suddenly felt eyes on him. He looked towards the front of the Hall, and there was Potter, most likely interrogating Katie Bell once again about when she was cursed. She was looking past Harry, however, her gaze fixed on Draco. Draco couldn't hear what they were talking about, but when a friend of Katie's broke her out of her odd trance, he knew something was wrong.

Unfortunately, Harry followed her gaze, and when he caught sight of Draco, his eyes narrowed accusingly. Draco began to panic slightly, and turned tail, leaving as quickly as he could. He looked about him for an escape route, and saw Charlotte approaching.

He grabbed her hand as she came towards him, "Charlotte, come here, quickly!"

She followed him obediently out of sight, but looked up at him, confused. "What is it? Is everything all right?"

"I'm being chased," he muttered, worried.

"By whom?"

"Harry Potter," Draco spat.

Her brow furrowed, "But… Why? What's going on?"

"He thinks I cursed Katie Bell and am involved in other secret, heinous activities." He spoke quickly, softly.

"Well, did you?" she asked him openly, oddly in a non-accusing way. She was well aware of the secretive things he was doing, so didn't question that. He hesitated, and she continued, more firmly, "Draco? Did you curse Katie?"

He put his hands up in front of him in defeat, "All right, fine, I did curse her. But he's chasing me like I'm some criminal! It's not like I've killed anybody." He rolled his eyes.

Charlotte sighed, and ran her fingers through her hair, a little annoyed. Draco was apparently definitely not the most sharp individual when it came to morality, and she spoke gently, "Using an Unforgivable Curse on a fellow student is a crime, Draco. Maybe not for a Death Eater, but I understand your distress."

"I don't know what he'll do if he finds me! That look I must have given him just now is as good as a confession to Potter, and the way he threatened me the other day makes me…" He rubbed his arm, worried.

"Wait, Harry Potter threatened you? What did he say?" Charlotte immediately became defensive, suddenly incensed at the idea of her beau being threatened. If she were a horse at that moment, her ears would be pinned back, nostrils flaring.

"He said he'd make sure I was sorry for anything that I'd done, or for ever disgracing the Potter name, something like that. I kind of tuned him out… but please help me, Charlotte!" he was beginning to whine.

Her mind began to work hastily, her eyes darting about as she weighed options in her head. "Did he see you come this way?"

"I don't know. He was in the middle of a conversation when I left."

She sighed, "Go find an empty bathroom on some floor high above this, and lock the door from the inside. I can distract him for a minute or two, and give you a head start. All right?"

Draco nodded, and squeezed her hand briefly as he darted for the nearest flight of stairs. He glanced downward for a second, to see what Charlotte had in mind. There was a reasonably sized crowd rushing back into the Great Hall, he heard loud footsteps and a frantic whinny, and smiled, amused at whatever she was up to. He noticed Harry Potter being held back by this crowd, and that gave him motivation to run faster up the flights of stairs. Within moments, he had locked himself safely inside the empty sixth floor bathroom.

He took a deep breath, and went to a sink, starting to run some cold water. He splashed some on his face, trying to calm his racing heart and get a hold of his roller coaster emotions. He was reminded of how dangerous this whole mission was, and the unease returned with a vengeance. As the water still dripped from his face, he began to cry. Silently at first, but in moments it became whimpering and loud sobbing.

_Why does Harry Potter have to ruin everything? He's not so perfect, why does everybody love him? He only makes things worse for me! And why was I entrusted with this task? This mission is so challenging… is it impossible for someone as incompetent as me to carry out?_ Draco thought to himself, as the tears fell down his face.

He then started talking aloud to himself, the reality of his situation getting to him, sobbing as he spoke, "I can't do it… I can't…" Malfoy didn't notice the bathroom door slowly opening behind him, and went on, his body shaking in fear and despair, "It won't work… and unless I do it soon… he says he'll kill me!" He sobbed, his body shuddering at the horrifying thoughts going through is head. His breath caught as he bawled, feeling and looking absolutely pitiful, and when he glanced in the mirror, he saw someone he loathed watching him over his shoulder.

"I know what you did, Malfoy," Harry spoke purposefully, accusingly. Draco turned to face him as he continued, "You hexed her, didn't you?"

And without another thought, Draco drew his wand and threw a hex at Harry, which missed him by inches. Harry tried to disarm Draco, but he blocked it easily. The two exchanged another pair of attempted and blocked jinxes, breaking a sink behind Harry and denting the wall near Draco. Draco went about trying to corner Potter, which was easier said than done. Harry ducked behind a wall, falling completely silent.

Draco listened for him, and knelt, looking for his feet through a gap underneath the long rows of stalls. When Harry knelt at the opposite side only moments later, Draco cast another curse, which missed and broke another sink, which exploded, causing water to pour everywhere, beginning to flood the bathroom. Draco ran quickly out of Harry's range before he could cast another spell, slipping on the now very wet floor. He hid up against a nearby wall, trying to catch his breath. He was rather angry now, despite his fear.

Draco leaned around the corner tentatively, and saw Harry doing the same not to far away, and took the opportunity to cry, livid, "_Cruci_—"

"_SECTUMSEMPRA!_" bellowed Harry, and Draco staggered backwards, falling onto the flooded floor with a splash, dropping his wand. He felt searing pain, as if a dozen swords slashed him at once, cutting deeply into his flesh, and he could feel his own blood begin to spill. He was filled with an agony that riddled his body without mercy. He could do nothing but lie there, gasping for breath and whimpering softly. He could vaguely sense Harry's presence near him, and soon, another presence, but the pain he was feeling was too intense to register much else…

Charlotte raced up the stairs to find Draco, and see if anything had transpired, whether good or bad. She listened and searched for any sign that told her either way, desperately hoping to hear nothing but Draco's haughty voice reassuring her that nothing happened, and that he had misunderstood the situation. Quite the opposite outcome greeted her as she reached the sixth floor. She heard crashes and yelling, one of the voices the unmistakable cry of her boyfriend, casting spells of some sort.

Snape was already on his way down the long corridor that housed said bathroom at its end, to stop the petty dispute and punish the students it concerned for being such insurgents. Charlotte was about to say something to Snape, ask if he knew what was going on, when a shout broke her concentration.

"_SECTUMSEMPRA!_" Harry Potter's voice boomed.

At this, Snape stopped dead in his tracks, his hands frozen into fists. Something about that word had caused some kind of strange, confused reaction in the professor. He appeared incensed and troubled at the same time, as he seemed to be trying to figure something out, something that puzzled him beyond his grasp.

Charlotte approached him, "Professor? What…"

He ignored her, and stormed into the bathroom, staring at what lay before him. Charlotte began to approach, but slowed as she heard Snape talking intently to someone, asking questions and giving commands, but she didn't catch what they were. She was surprised when a wet, upset-looking Harry Potter walked by her, a look of regret and self-revulsion adorning his face.

"Harry?" she asked, and he slowed, "What happened? Where's Malfoy?" Harry couldn't meet her eyes when she asked about Draco, and simply looked apologetic, regretful. At this, uneasiness filled her heart. She ran to the bathroom, and was shocked by the scene in front of her.

In the middle of the flooded bathroom floor, lay Draco Malfoy, whimpering and clutching for something, anything , with his free hands as he laid completely helpless, blood soaking through his white shirt in many places. The pool of blood that surrounded him increased in size and volume every moment

Charlotte's hands shot to her mouth, in complete and utter shock. Tears filled her eyes, and she could only manage, "D…Draco?" She desperately wondered what could have possessed Harry Potter to inflict such wounds on a fellow student, and how did he do so? What did Draco do to deserve such a punishment?

"Who could have guessed that Harry Potter was so familiar with such Dark Magic? To cause such injury, he must have been in a state of pure loathing," the professor shook his head, troubled. Snape knelt by Draco's side, and began to cast a countercurse that sounded a bit like singing to Charlotte, "_Vulnera_ _senentur_… _Vulnera_ _senentur_…"

With every chant and delicate shifting of his wand over Draco, the blood returned to Draco's body, and the cuts and blood on his shirt began to disappear. Once all the blood was returned to Draco's body, and his cuts gone, he stood and looked at Charlotte. Astonished by her reaction to the boy's suffering, Snape wondered how deep her devotion to Draco ran, as it appeared she shared in his pain, and would do anything to make it stop.

Charlotte knelt by Draco's side, crying silently as she gently held his right hand. "He's going to be fine," the professor assured her, "Dark Magic takes time to heal, but my guess is you already know that. I assume you already know about Draco's role in a dark and dangerous group?"

She nodded, "I know he's a Death Eater, and has a mysterious, dark task. He won't tell me what it is, though, for fear of the Dark Lord searching for and possibly hurting me. He truly cares about me, and I really care about him." Charlotte stroked his white-blond hair.

Snape smiled, "I can see that." Draco stirred, and began to try to sit up. He tried to say something, "I have to…" and then he coughed vigorously. Snape hauled Draco into a standing position, and instructed, "You need the Hospital Wing, for you are in need of time to recover, Malfoy. Can you help me get him there, Miss LaRocque?" Charlotte nodded, still shaken. Snape assured her, "Don't worry, he'll have a full recovery. He looks beat up, but by morning, he'll be back to his normal, aggravating self."

"Thank you, Professor," she smiled gratefully, and added shyly, "Do you, um, think you could keep me and Draco a secret? We don't want anyone to know about 'Us', as Draco fears that would put me in danger, especially considering my… er, pedigree."

"Of course. It's not my place to gossip about student affairs," Snape scoffed, but inside he was pleased to finally see for himself that Draco truly had someone so devoted to him, to help him through these dark times.

Charlotte smiled, and helped the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher take Draco walked to the Hospital Wing, where he began his quick and necessary healing.

* * *

Despite a good deal of protest, he submitted to taking his healing potions and medications, eager to make progress on his mission. Even with his griping and constant demands about anything and everything, he rather enjoyed the times when Charlotte was present, during meal times and between classes. Madam Pomfrey was amazed at the fact that his snippy remarks didn't upset her, and noted that Draco appeared almost better behaved when Charlotte was there. She assumed that he wanted her there, though the reason why he required her company was a mystery to the nurse. They were such opposites; why would a sweet, studious girl like Charlotte want to spend her time with a stuck-up, arrogant boy like Draco? The nurse let the issue be, and focused on helping her patient, no matter how irritating he may be.

Draco awoke in the middle of that night with a start. He cried out, visions of that wretched curse and a vengeful Harry Potter still spinning in his head, and looked about, momentarily confused at his surroundings. When he heard a soft sigh and the creaking of the bed next to him, he forgot all about his nightmares and pain as a familiar presence soothed his anxiety. Charlotte sat up and stretched, glancing at Draco with sleepy eyes. Charlotte had suggested spending the night with him to ensure his comfort and healing, and Madam Pomfrey consented, strangely without much question (she was actually rather amused by her sincere and considerate request).

She looked him over inquiringly, "Is everything okay, Draco? Are you in pain?" Charlotte yawned. "Is there anything I can do to help you?"

He shook his head, "I'm fine; simply a nightmare. Sorry to wake you."

"Not at all! You have every right to wake me up, you had quite the frightening experience today, my liege," she relaxed a bit, knowing that he wasn't in any pain. "Are you sure there isn't anything I can do for you?"

He shrugged, "I can't think of anything…" he sighed, and all of a sudden, something dawned on him, "Kiss me."

"What?" she asked, surprised.

"We're all alone, I've had a terrible day, I just woke up from a terrifying nightmare, and I would like you to kiss me." He looked at her deviously.

She shrugged, leaned over, and kissed him on the cheek.

"Hey," he frowned a little, "you missed, foolish girl!"

"What are you talking about? I did not miss. You must need to go back to sleep." She began to walk back to her bed, dismissing him.

"I want you to kiss me properly. We're all alone in the Hospital Wing, and it's the middle of the night—nobody's going to pay any mind. I've had a taxing day, and I'm still in pain. I've been through a lot, I think I deserve something better than a simple peck on the cheek." He crossed his arms, looking at her impatiently.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow at his indignant, haughty behavior, looking at him questioningly. This was a taste of the old Draco which she didn't mind, but perceived it to be playful banter: a game he liked to play with her, to test her resolve, whether she really did feel strongly enough about him to accept all parts of him. Charlotte merely took it in stride, and put her hands on her hips. "Is that so?"

"Yes, my dear, that's so." He smirked at her, awaiting her reply.

"You should be happy anyone even wants to kiss you in the first place!" She turned away, mocking scorn. She turned back after a moment and added, sighing overdramatically, "But you have had a long, hard day, and you are in a little pain… and I do love you so very much…"

She walked back over to him, placed a hand on his pillow on either side of his head, and leaned forward slowly, gazing into his silver eyes. Her lips met his in a gentle, sweet kiss. It was as if she were conveying her deep worry for his safety and devotion to him that she experienced that day. When the kiss finally broke, he was flushed, and beaming as he replied, "I love you, too, Charlotte." Her bright smile in response only made him happier that she was there.

The two of them slept much better for the rest of the night on their respective beds, though Charlotte's had been moved considerably closer, and she rested her hand on Draco's bed, their fingers intertwined. When Draco awoke the following morning, he resolved to go about his duty with renewed vigor and zeal, thanks to Charlotte's healing presence and immense, deeply rooted care for him and his well being. He honestly believed he was strong enough to tackle this difficult task head on, and to put it into action once he was fully recovered.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

"You're right, this is a nice spot," Draco spoke, stroking the russet muzzle of the horse that had carried him to the clearing in which he now stood, a clear patch of grass deep in the Forbidden Forest, listening to the rhythmic swish of her tail. His hands dropped to his sides, and he went to stand a few feet away, staring up at the star-filled sky.

A few moments later, Draco felt Charlotte's hand next to his, which he readily took, pulling her close as she whispered, "Aren't the stars simply lovely?"

Draco nodded. They gazed up at the cloudless sky, not a word between them for many moments.

Draco finally sighed, "Look, there's a reason I wanted to talk to you alone, where no one could possibly hear us."

"Not just to stare at the stars and daydream?" Charlotte smiled.

"No," he shook his head, "I need you to know that in the near future, Hogwarts may not be the safest place for you."

"What do you mean?"

"You know how I've been working on something…uh, a mission… all year? Well, it's going to finally come together in a couple days' time, and I don't know what's going to happen," Draco looked at his hands, his voice weaker than before. "I… I don't know what I would do if you were hurt…" he trailed off. He glanced at her sideways, quickly returning his gaze to his hands.

Charlotte sighed, and ran her fingers through her hair, "All right. I'll try my best to stay safe from whatever it is when the time comes. Now, can we please enjoy the stars for at least a little while?"

Draco nodded, forcing a smile to cross his face. He didn't want to worry her, when in truth he'd been the most stressed he could remember being up to this point in his life. He stared at the sky, when in truth all he saw was his plan of action, replaying over and over in his head.

After a full recovery from the Sectumsempra curse, Draco decided that he needed to act as soon as possible, or he might never be able to. He was quickly running out of time, as indicated by the increase in threats from the Dark Lord to finish his work, and the pressure from Snape as well. Draco was almost visibly bending under the weight of it all. Since the Vanishing Cabinet was in working order and ready for action, and his Dark Magic was getting rather good, he realized there was no further reason to stall.

Before he could do anything, he had to find a time that Dumbledore was present, but out of the way enough so that he could put his plan into action. He decided he'd have to simply wait for the right opportunity to present itself, and soon.

He felt a light pressure on his hand, and he jumped, nearly recoiling from the touch. He glanced down, and saw that Charlotte had put her hand on his, reassuringly. Draco really was thankful that she was there. He knew he was worrying her, what with all his secrecy and vagueness lately, and really hoped that she wouldn't hate him after he had… he could hardly bring himself to even think about it… _murdered_ the headmaster.

"About this mission of yours," Charlotte broke the silence, bringing him back to the present, "Are you looking forward to doing it? Is it something you want to do?"

"It doesn't matter what I want. I was commanded to do it, and the lives of my parents depend on my very important mission… he's going to kill them if I fail!"

"That is a difficult situation," Charlotte agreed, "Do you think that someone who threatens your lives on a regular basis is a worthy person to follow? Couldn't you just desert him?"

"I can't! I'm trapped, connected to the Dark Lord in ways that I can't escape. He's got so much power over me, over my family, and so many others… Going along with him is the safest option," Draco sighed, pulling up his sleeve and looking at his Dark Mark. He hated that he was coerced into following this terrifying person, and he desperately wanted to break away from it all. He didn't care that he might be the only Death Eater to feel that way, he simply wanted out.

Charlotte sighed, "Draco, are you sure you want to go through with this, whatever it is? It appears to be seriously wearing on you. You've gotten more irritable than usual, and you seem stressed beyond your capacity."

"Of course I'm going to go through with it! How could you possibly think otherwise?" he snapped at her. He instantly regretted it, but she hid the hurt in her eyes well, appearing unfazed.

Charlotte continued, a little withdrawn, "If I were entrusted with a task that I didn't believe in, or it went against my views of what is right, I wouldn't be able to do it." She paused, and added, "Do you remember what we talked about in the Shrieking Shack all those months ago?"

"I don't know, my mind is in a million places right now."

She sighed, "Well, on that stormy winter night, you asked me what I thought of Death Eaters. Remember that?"

"What about it?" he looked at Charlotte, at a loss.

She rolled her eyes, "You really are clueless. You also mentioned your exact predicament, probably testing the waters, seeing how I'd react, and looking for advice. My answers then ring true now." She looked him in the eyes, "There is always a chance for a fresh start, Draco. No matter how difficult it may be to recover from this, or anything, you can always earn a second chance, as far as I'm concerned."

"But what if the thing I'm supposed to do is too terrible for me to ever dream of earning forgiveness? Especially from you…" he broke away from her gaze.

"Draco, listen to me. You are anything but a bad person. I have no idea what you've been instructed to do, and I'm not sure I even want to know what it is, but if I know you, I believe you'll do what you think is right." She put a hand on the side of his face, gently, "No matter what you choose to do, right or wrong, I'll try my best to support you, no matter how dangerous or difficult the path may be."

He looked at her, tentative, "Honestly, do you mean that? You're not just lying to shut me up, are you?"

"When have I ever done that?" she looked hurt, "Of course I mean it."

Draco examined her face, searching for a trace of deception, finding nothing more than genuine sincerity and devotion. "Thank you," he whispered, "that means more to me than you'll ever know." He put his hand on hers.

In response, she smiled. Upon standing, she added, "Come on, Draco. Let's head back, I can start to hear centaurs approaching, this is a favorite place to forage for them." She took his hand, and they raced back to Hogwarts castle.

* * *

As Draco lay in bed only days later, his mind was racing, and once he was sure most everyone was asleep, he decided that this was the moment. He got out of bed, dressed, and went to the Room of Requirement, determination in his every step. _Here goes, _Draco thought to himself. He approached the Vanishing Cabinet with purpose. Tonight was the night; he couldn't bear to wait any longer. Snape's words of advice echoed in his mind. '_Dumbledore has an errand of great importance tonight, and will be gone for a few hours at most. When the castle is mostly asleep, let them into the castle…then it will go as planned. It's now or never, boy.'_ He straightened his shoulders, and as he was about to summon the transporting power of the Vanishing Cabinet, speaking clearly, "_Harmonia_ _nectere passus_…" when Snape's final thought reoccurred to him, something he hadn't registered before.

'_Once they're here, no one will be safe. If I were you, I'd be careful, especially regarding the safety of your _friends_. I wouldn't want them to get hurt if I were you…' _He wasn't referring to Crabbe or Goyle at all, as they were in on the plan, or anyone else he talked with occasionally. Draco, having initially dismissed the comment, finally realized what Snape meant. Charlotte! He hadn't warned her, and the arrival of the Death Eaters was close at hand. He could already hear the Vanishing Cabinet beginning to work its magic. He backed away slowly, and went to find her. He knew he had a few minutes, and it was imperative that he did. He nearly bowled her over as he reached the entrance to Ravenclaw.

"Draco! There you are, I was just on my way to find you. What's wrong?"

"It's… complicated. I need you to listen to me now."

"What are you talking about? Is it about the History assignment?"

"Charlotte, I don't care about any blasted homework right now. This is serious. I need you to pay attention to what I'm saying now."

She crossed her arms, waiting impatiently.

He looked about, and his Dark Mark burned, as he muttered, "Quickly now, stay hidden, and stay out of sight! I don't know what they're going to do once they're here…"

"Once who's here, Draco?"

"Look, I can't say—I'm not even sure what's going to go down, if they even come this way at all— all that I can say is that you may be in grave danger if you're not safely hidden."

"I'm not sure what you…"

"Just promise me, okay?" he pleaded with her, his tone determined.

She looked into his eyes, and saw dark purpose gleaming behind their silvery pools. Her eyes widened with understanding and alarm at his mix of resolve at completing his task, and of fear for her safety, recalling their conversation a few nights previous. "I'll go, I'll find somewhere…" She kissed him before she left, and said, "I know you'll do what's right."

Draco simply nodded, and then bolted back to the Room of Requirement. Four Death Eaters, and a dark, billowing aura that emanated from the now-closing Vanishing Cabinet greeted him.

"Well done, little Malfoy," a man growled. Fenrir Greyback stood before him, stretching his long, powerful limbs and cracking joints, as if preparing for a fight.

At his sides were two Death Eaters, in matching Death Eater masks, whom he identified as the Carrow siblings, Alecto and Amycus. They didn't say anything, but they nodded in recognition to Draco. Draco heard a malicious giggle as the final Death Eater took the lead of the group.

"It's about time, Draco, I thought we'd be waiting in that delightfully dismal shop all night! I can't believe you've gotten this far. Maybe Snape won't have to pick up the slack after all, eh?" She elbowed him in the ribs, harder than he thought necessary, but she didn't seem to notice him wince. "Now, let's get to work destroying the _impenetrable_ Hogwarts castle!" She cackled, and led the procession out of the Room of Requirement. Draco followed, a little reluctant.

"Where is he?" Bellatrix had a student pinned up against the wall, her wand pointed at his throat.

"Wh—where is who, ma'am?" the boy muttered, trying not to fall apart in this devil-woman's grasp.

"Why, Dumbledore, of course, dearie!" her wand pressed up against his throat.

Draco watched, a cold dread in his heart. He didn't want anyone else to die, he just wanted his part over and done with. This excess cruelty and death of one girl who unfortunately crossed the path of Fenrir Greyback, added to his nervousness, decreasing his conviction to do what was necessary that night.

"I don't know, exactly… but last I saw, he was heading towards the Astronomy Tower with another student." He cowered at her threatening glare.

The witch dropped the boy, "Selling your headmaster out to meet his doom. Excellent choice, twerp!" They flinched as a Disarming spell was cast two feet from where they stood, and a Sutpefying spell was cast inches from Amycus' shoulder. Bellatrix screeched, "Draco, go to the Astronomy Tower! We have other business to attend to."

He nodded, and ran directly to the tower. He heard little but the pounding of his own heart, and he secretly hoped that Dumbledore wasn't there. He paused halfway up the stairs, catching his breath, and heard voices on the other side. Conviction filled his being. Whoever it was on the other side of that door, be it Dumbledore or some other meddling witch or wizard, he'd make sure they couldn't stop him from completing his mission.

He burst through the door and shouted, "_Expelliarmus!_" He was face-to-face with his victim-to-be, Albus Dumbledore. He paled, still pointing his wand threateningly at the headmaster, as he attempted to gather what courage he had left to do his duty to the Dark Lord.

To his surprise, Dumbledore showed no sign of alarm or distress at Draco's disarming him or standing before him with wand poised in the air, showing no concern at the fact that he was at the young Death Eater's mercy. "Good evening, Draco," Dumbledore said simply.

Draco began to get flustered; Snape was right, it truly was now or never…


	25. Chapter 25

**Yay cliffhangers! I just wanted to remind everyone, I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in the books/movies. But I **_**do**_** own Charlotte LaRocque! And in any and every scene I use or reference in my chapters that may be in the books/movies, I take poetic license and spin them as to how I think (or would like to think) Draco Malfoy may have seen them, or was affected. They're definitely not exactly true to the books or movies, but my own little spin on them. Please enjoy! (And yes, I do go beyond the last time you see/hear about Draco in the books/movies, so there's plenty more storyline and chapters to come!)**

Chapter 25

Draco stepped forward, and looked around carefully, making sure that the two of them were alone. The headmaster must have been talking to someone, as he heard more than one voice.

"What brings you up here on this fine spring evening, Malfoy?" Dumbledore said easily.

He demanded, "Who else is here? I heard you talking to someone."

"I often talk aloud to myself, I find it rather useful," he paused, "Are you alone tonight?"

Draco replied, his investigating gaze returning to Dumbledore, "No, I've got backup. There are Death Eaters in your school tonight."

Dumbledore's reply surprised Draco even more, "How very impressive, Draco. You found a way to let them in, did you?"

Pride swelled in his chest, but his nerves continued conflicting with his drive to act, "Yeah, I did it right under your nose and you never realized!"

"Ingenious. Yet…" he trailed off, catching his breath for a moment. The headmaster appeared weakened for some reason, making Draco's decision even harder, "Forgive me, it has been a taxing night indeed. Where are they now? You seem unsupported."

"They met with a few of your guards, and they're fighting them right now. They'll be here soon, but I went on ahead. I—I've got a job to do."

"Well then, you must get on and do it, my dear boy," Dumbledore didn't make any effort to resist or get out of the way, and Draco wasn't sure how to react. He simply stood there, staring at the headmaster in bewilderment. Dumbledore smiled after what seemed like a long moment, and spoke clearly, "Draco, you are not a killer."

"How do you know what I am? You don't know what I'm capable of. I've done things that would shock you!" He clipped.

"Like hexing Katie Bell, and hoping that she would bring a cursed necklace to me? Or like replacing a bottle of mead with one laced with poison that I would have very little chance of reaching me? You nearly killed two students. Forgive me, Draco, but those actions were so weak that I can't help feeling that your heart hasn't been in this mission of yours."

"It has been! He trusts me. I was chosen!" Draco pulled up his left sleeve, revealing his Dark Mark, tattooed on his forearm.

"I'm so sorry, Draco…" Dumbledore looked regretful. There was a commotion in the stairs leading to where they stood. "You mentioned before… there are others in the castle? How? Where are they?"

Draco didn't reply right away, so the headmaster continued, "Perhaps you ought to finish your job alone. Maybe they are having trouble with some of my guard, or the members of the Order of the Phoenix. Or are you too afraid to act without them here with you?"

"I'm not afraid! It's you who should be scared!" he yelled, frozen with indecision, and maybe even a little fear.

"But why should I be afraid of you? I don't think it is you who will kill me, Draco, killing is not as easy as most believe…" he paused to catch his breath, "Now, explain to me, how did you get them into Hogwarts? I'm curious."

"The Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement. I've been mending it all year. It has a twin in Borgin and Burke's, and they make a passage."

"Ingenious!" he almost appeared to be praising the boy, "And as you like to put it, you did it 'right under my nose'."

Draco smiled a bit, drawing courage from his praise.

"But there were times you didn't think you could mend the cabinet, and resorted to those poorly judged attempts on my life. Isn't that true, Draco?"

"Yeah, well, you never realized who it was behind all of that, did you?"

"Actually, I did. I was sure it was you all year long."

"Why didn't you stop me, then?"

"I tried, Draco. Professor Snape has been watching over you on my orders, and—"

"He hasn't been following your orders, he promised my mother—"

"Of course that's what he would tell you, but I trust him, and I have reason to believe otherwise."

"You're wrong, Professor!" Draco sneered, "Snape has been giving me plenty of help along the way—and now, I'll fulfill my purpose, and the Dark Lord will be happy—no, proud that he chose me!"

"And then what, Draco? Will you really be worth anything more to him, or will you be forced to do another thing your nature won't allow you to? Please, let me help you."

"I don't want your help! Don't you understand? I have to kill you!"

"Enough about that, Draco, I know you don't want to do this. Now, we can figure out how we can get you out of this. I can help you."

Draco began to hope, he truly wanted help, but shook his head. "No you can't! I have to kill you…" his voice began to waver as he finished, "Or he's gonna kill me."

"Come to the right side, Draco, and we can hide you more effectively than you can imagine. We can hide your family, too, you'll be safe from the Dark Lord forever more."

Draco's face showed the least bit of reprieve, and he lowered his wand a fraction, but a crash of the door behind him dashed any hint of hope for him. The Death Eaters burst in, led by Bellatrix Lestrange, who let out a pleased exclamation.

"Look at what we have here; Dumbledore at little Draco's mercy!" she whispered in his ear, "Well done, boy…"

Draco grimaced, losing conviction as quickly as he looked from the Death Eaters to Dumbledore, unsure of which side he wanted to be a part of. He wanted to be free of this, but he desperately wanted to show that he was not as weak as his fellow Death Eaters thought him, and he feared for his life. He was oblivious to the threatening small talk between the group and the headmaster until he heard his aunt hiss a command at him.

"Do it!"

Draco looked at her, not making any move to lower his wand or cast the desired curse.

"He doesn't have the stomach, just like his father," Fenrir Greyback rumbled, stepping forward, "Let me finish him, the right way!"

"No! The Dark Lord was clear in his instruction, it has to be the boy! This is your moment, Draco, do it…_now_!" she yelled finally, fed up with his hesitation. Draco was shaking so hard, he could barely aim or keep his thoughts straight. He was grimacing so hard, and panting from all the stress and indecision.

"No," Professor Snape spoke menacingly, and Draco backed off, lowering his wand and averting his eyes. He couldn't kill Dumbledore, and Snape knew it. Draco was ashamed, but what happened next was a good turn of fortune for his mission, or what it aimed to do.

"Snape, the boy's too much of a coward to do it!" Bellatrix cried, livid at the boy for folding at the perfect opportunity.

"Severus…" Dumbledore began, entreating, "Please."

Snape raised his wand, pointed it directly at Dumbledore, and spoke clearly, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

Dumbledore was killed instantly, knocked backward off the landing, and fell to the ground below. Draco was amazed; the powerful wizard whom the Dark Lord feared indefinitely was defeated so easily, without much effort to prevent his own doom. The Death Eaters went through the castle, towards the main entrance, and while they passed through the Great Hall, Bellatrix leapt onto one of the furnished tables set for breakfast the next morning, and went about kicking randomly as she ran down the table, strewing shattered dishes and silverware every which way.

They had nearly reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest, when Harry Potter caught up to them and was casting spells, trying to stop them. Snape looked behind him, lazily blocked a curse, and glanced back at the procession behind him, Death Eaters blocking spells and casting them in return at Potter and other members of the Order of the Phoenix.

Snape then grabbed Draco and muttered in his ear, "The Dark Lord will need some time to cool off once he learns you weren't Dumbledore's assassin. If I were you, I would get off the radar for a few days, it'll save you from being killed. I'll cushion the blow, make it sound like Dumbledore incapacitated you so it was impossible, but he's going to need some time. I'll summon you when the time is right." Draco nodded, thankful to the mysterious professor for helping him. "Now," he added, "Run, Draco!"

* * *

The boy ran headlong into the Forbidden Forest, ignoring the tired muscles in his legs. He ran and ran until he thought he was out of range of his aunt's or the other Death Eaters' detection. All the stress from the night's events caught up with him, and he collapsed on his hands and knees, panting from the emotional and physical exhaustion. He heard heavy, animal like footfalls, but didn't care to figure out what they were. At this point, he may have even welcomed the pain, what with all the destruction he'd been a cause of, the deaths he'd had a part in.

"Draco?" a soft voice spoke, and he looked up, startled.

There stood Charlotte, her braided hair slightly disheveled, her arms wrapped around herself, bracing against the cool, late-spring night. _Of course she'd pick the Forbidden Forest, one of the most dangerous places for a human in the school, _Draco was amused at his thought. A look of concern was on her face, and when she approached him, she knelt and lightly put her arm around his shoulders, comfortingly. She could see he was suffering, and desperately wanted to fix it.

"At least you… you're safe," was all he could manage, as he wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

Charlotte nodded, "Yes, yes, I'm fine. But what's wrong? You look absolutely wretched! What happened in there?"

He shook his head, "I can't believe that I… I'm just so…" Tears fell from his eyes, and Charlotte gently soothed him. Draco slowly stood as he got a hold of himself. He didn't speak, however, for fear that his voice would break.

"That… up there, what is it?" she indicated towards the sky above the school, her voice curious, but undeniably shaking. "I was keeping watch from a safe distance—at the forest's edge—when all of a sudden, I saw a green flash of light from the Astronomy tower, followed by a crack as loud as thunder, and that moving, _writhing_ thing appeared in the sky. What exactly is that, Draco?"

Draco couldn't face her as he replied, "That's the Dark Mark. It's meant to tell other wizards that a Death Eater has just committed a murder—to warn, to frighten, and to show everyone that we're fulfilling our dark purpose."

Charlotte couldn't figure out what he was talking about. "You don't mean other Death Eaters… in Hogwarts? Dumbledore wouldn't allow such a thing."

"About Dumbledore…" he couldn't meet her gaze, as he continued, "A Death Eater… killed him, and I… I let them in…" he looked down at his hands, ashamed at the Headmaster's fate. He feared her reaction, afraid that she'd reject him, shun him, like he thought he deserved to be.

"Oh, Draco…" she sighed, but not in a scolding manner.

He turned back to face her, and the sympathy on her face melted his composure, and he wrapped his arms around her, as if holding onto her would keep him rooted to reality. They held each other tightly, Draco crying softly until his breath caught, and he tried to speak.

"I have to tell you something. It's about what my—my mission was. I'll understand if after you hear it, you want nothing more to do with me, but I have to tell you or I'll never be able to live with myself." His voice still shook.

Charlotte nodded, "What is it? You can tell me anything."

As he started to explain, they heard his name being called by two voices: one was an animal-esque voice, and the other a shrill, grating one.

"Malfoy! Show your face, you spineless coward!" The loud snarl came from a good distance away, but the second voice was a little closer, "Draco, dear! Get lost in the scary forest, did you? Come out and play, I'm sure the Dark Lord will be most happy to hear your little story! Ha-ha!"

All the color drained from Draco's face as he backed up, looking about frantically, "We have to get out of here!"

Charlotte took his hand, and they started running. "Get on my back, Draco, I can run faster as a horse, and farther."

"But what if you trip and fall?"

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. I'm more concerned about you. Let's get somewhere safe, and quickly!"

Draco nodded, and dropped Charlotte's hand, watching as she fell behind. He kept running, and within moments, she pulled up next to him, trotting easily. She slowed a bit so as to help him. He leapt onto her back, and she broke into a run. She galloped deep into the forest, and the calls faded into silence behind them.

* * *

Once they were safely out of the Forbidden Forest and into a Muggle residential area, they were able to find a hotel to stay in for the night so they could stay hidden.

"What is it you wanted to tell me, Draco?" Charlotte said, her arms above her head as she lay on the bed, still trying to catch her breath.

Draco was pacing, still nervous.

"We're safe, love, I promise. I cast all the protective charms we need and more. Now take a deep breath, sit next to me, and tell me what's on your mind."

With one final glance out the window, he shut the curtain, and stood before her. Charlotte propped herself up against the headboard, and folded her hands, ready to listen.

"All right, well, here it is. I became a Death Eater early in the school year, and before I was even initiated, the Dark Lord took me aside and entrusted me with something. Both of my parents are Death Eaters, and it was a given that their only son become one as well, and a means to appeal for forgiveness for their failures to the Dark Lord himself."

He continued to tell his story, "I had no choice in the matter, but didn't protest, as the life in the darkness appealed to me, or so I thought. Please hear me out, I had no say in whether I was given this task, and I in no way volunteered for it." He paused, and glanced at Charlotte. Her eyes had narrowed a bit for a second, but she didn't interrupt him. "My mission was to kill Albus Dumbledore."

"What?" Charlotte looked at him, skeptical.

Draco looked at his feet, and sat in a chair opposite where she faced. "All year long, I've been trying to find a way to kill the headmaster for the Dark Lord." He commenced explaining his methods, his failed attempts at killing him inadvertently, why he fixed the Vanishing Cabinet, and the events of that night.

He finally finished, "…and by the time I had Dumbledore at my mercy, I had remembered everything you said about doing what I think is right, and it stopped me from doing anything foolish. I went with what my heart… or I mean, what you showed me to be true."

Charlotte was taken aback, and the silence that fell between them was long, and charged with uneasy tension. "You mean to say that you didn't kill Dumbledore?" she said after a few minutes, examining his pale, defined face.

Draco shook his head, "No. I couldn't, because in my heart I knew it was wrong. Because… because of you." He paused, "Now, I know after hearing all that, you probably hate me. If you want, I can leave now; say the word and I'll be gone. I just have to stay under the Dark Lord's radar for a while, so he doesn't m—"

He was cut off when without warning, Charlotte threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Draco was more than a little surprised, he'd expected her to yell at him, to tell him to get out of her life, but the exact opposite occurred.

He kissed her right back, but he was very confused. "Uh, Ch-Charlotte?" he stuttered after she released him.

She sighed, shaking her head.

"What? What did I say?" he asked, worried.

"Nothing," she smiled, "I'm just… astonished. You really surprised me. I knew you had a good heart, but after hearing all of this, I… I think you really are the boy of my dreams. I can't believe that you took all my drabble to heart, and inadvertently prevented the Dark Lord from using you as a pawn."

"I have you to thank for that," he replied, a little sheepish. "Thanks for being so forgiving, I know I don't deserve it for all the wrong I've done."

"There's nothing to forgive. Your intentions may have been less than honorable, but they all failed, and I still love you." She looked around her, "Well, I think we can keep you safe from your Dark Lord for a day or two. Let him cool off, we'll stay out of sight until you're summoned." She took his hand and laced her fingers through his.

Draco was immensely relieved at her ready acceptance of his dark yet unfulfilled mission, and how she, despite all of his deception and trickery, still found something in him worth loving. Suddenly, he realized felt very tired, his second wind leaving him rather quickly. He got into bed not ten minutes later.

When Charlotte returned from washing her face, she found Draco nearly asleep in one of the beds in the room. "Draco, are you still awake?" she inquired. She got a tired groan in response, and she laughed.

"What? I'm tired, I've had a long night." He grumbled.

"I know you have. You're just amusing when you're exhausted," she shook her hair out.

"Of course I am. Come here," he said, reaching his arm out to her, beckoning tiredly. She complied, lying next to him. He then whispered, "Charlotte, I love you." He gave her a kiss on the forehead, pulling her close.

"I love you too, Draco."

He uttered a tired "mhmm" and a big sigh, and within moments, he was asleep. Charlotte nestled into his warm embrace, and fell asleep quickly. They were both very worn out, but at ease, glad this whole episode was over, at least for the time being.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

When Charlotte awoke, she glanced at the bedside clock and sat up with a start. "Blast!" she muttered, and stood abruptly, ignoring the screaming pain in her legs.

Her quick movement jostled Draco, and he stirred, "What's going on?" When he saw her frantically gathering her things, he panicked. "What is it? Have we been discovered?"

"We overslept! Checkout time was hours ago!"

"Oh, Charlotte," Draco whined, "you made me think there were Death Eaters at our door! Calm down, we have the room for a few days." He lay back down on his stomach, letting his eyes fall shut once again.

Relief washed over her, and she dropped what she had gathered on a chair, sitting back down on the edge of the bed, letting her heart rate return to its normal rate. "I'm sorry, Draco. I must be a little on edge." She looked at the clock again, "I can't believe we slept for 14 hours."

"It was a long night for both of us," he replied, not opening his eyes.

"You can say that again. Ah!" she cringed as she tried to lift her leg onto the bed so she could lie down again.

"You all right over there?" Draco opened one eye, absently inquiring. When he saw she was in pain, he stretched and sat up, "What's wrong now?"

She inhaled quickly, quickly, her breath a sharp hiss. "My legs—they're so stiff and sore! Ouch!" Draco watched as she painstakingly lifted her legs onto the bed and slowly lay down, her eyes shut tightly against the pain.

"Not used to running that fast or long as a horse?" he was referring to their flight from the pursuing Death Eaters the previous night. With Draco on her back, Charlotte had cantered for miles in her horse form, and quite rapidly.

She shook her head, "I thought I was tired last night, but now I hurt all over."

"That's unfortunate," he smirked slightly, but with a threatening glare from Charlotte, he added, "I mean, I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

Charlotte shrugged, sighing. As she slowly opened her eyes, she started looking about the room, finally getting a chance to take in its aesthetics: blue-gray walls, with paintings of lighthouses and ocean bays placed about the room, blue curtains, a small desk, a couple of lamps, and a brown armchair. She had to smile to herself when she saw the completely destroyed bed opposite her. The one she occupied had barely been touched save for her lying down on it only moments ago, still mostly properly made up, but the one she and Draco had shared the night before was a mess of sheets and comforters.

He'd gotten a room for two, with two beds. Why didn't she think to sleep separately the night before? If her parents learned about this, they'd be amused, to say the very least. Something came to her mind, and she asked Draco, "So, when you went in ahead of me last night, how did you get a room for the two of us? I know the owner of this hotel, and he's a bit of a stickler when it comes to tradition, and what we're doing is far from traditional."

"Oh, yeah," he said, "it wasn't too difficult. I didn't use a bit of magic, if you can believe that! He asked why I needed a room for two if I was here all alone, and I said it was for me and my…" He trailed off, suddenly embarrassed.

"You and your what?" she looked quizzically at him, sitting up.

"…my wife." He blushed deeply at the word, "I said that we were recently married and we needed to rest for a few days on our way to see family."

At this, Charlotte's breath caught, and she couldn't help but smile.

He took her silence as a negative reaction, and apologized quickly, "I—I'm sorry! I had to say something, and that's the first thing that came to my mind. If you're mad about it, I understand."

"Not at all," she reassured him, "It was a brilliant idea, and rather sweet."

"Really?" he stared at her, amazed she wasn't outraged by his forward comment.

"Really. It's a lovely thought: Draco Malfoy's wife… Not that something like that would ever really happen…" she trailed off.

Draco watched her face fall, feeling regretful himself. He sighed, dreading the fact that she may be right. In what world would his parents, of one of the most pureblood wizard supremacist families in England, allow him to marry a Mudblood girl? He honestly did love Charlotte, and he knew if he didn't give up, he could find a way and it would hopefully all work out in the end. That is, if the Dark Lord didn't kill Draco the next time he laid eyes on him.

Moving to her side and taking her hand, he changed the subject, "Would a hot bath help you with the sore muscles?"

An idea came to Charlotte, "Perhaps. Have you ever been in a spa?"

"A place where they pamper you with massages and such? Of course, many times." He tossed his head, a haughty gesture.

"No, I mean a hot whirlpool bath. But they probably have them at spa resorts." She shifted her weight slightly, "There is one down the hall, towards the front desk. Would you care to join me?"

"Join you in the bath?" he sounded shocked. He obviously wasn't paying very close attention to what she was saying.

Charlotte laughed, tying her hair up in a clip she retrieved from her bag of belongings, "No, silly! You wear swimming suits, it's a social activity."

"Oh," he frowned, "then sure."

After a spell in the hot tub, they both felt much more at ease, Charlotte's soreness greatly lessened, and headed back to their room, refreshed.

"How are you feeling?" Charlotte asked him pleasantly as they walked.

"Better, but my mind is still working overtime. I'm trying not to imagine what the Dark Lord is thinking, and I'm amazed that he hasn't summoned me, or worse, tried to find and kill me yet." He studied his bare wrist, the Dark mark uncovered, appearing to Muggles to be only an intricate tattoo.

"Oh, Draco, you need to relax, and get your mind off all of that. You had a stressful night last night, far more so than I. It's you who really need to recuperate." Charlotte looked at him sideways, "What's being a little sore compared to the intense mental and emotional stress you've had to undergo? Forget me, I should be helping you feel better."

"It's fine, don't worry about me," he half-smiled. He unlocked the room door and let Charlotte in first, who straightened the camisole and shorts she had thrown on over her bathing suit, went to sit on the freshly made bed, and patted the space next to her. She instructed, "Now, come sit. You need a back massage."

"But, you're not a masseuse, Charlotte, and I've never…" he could tell by her hardening expression that he was getting into dangerous territory and conceded, sitting right beside her, "I've never gotten one from you before, I bet it would be first-rate."

Charlotte began working his back with her capable hands, which was tight with the knotted tension he'd been dealing with all year long. Draco instantly began to feel better. "Holy hippogriff, Charlotte! Where did you learn to do this? I could die of contentedness right now," he relaxed into her touch.

"But we wouldn't want that now, would we? I think I'd be lost if you died right now, no matter how content you may be," she spoke gently, planting a light kiss on his still bare shoulder, sending a chill down Draco's back. "Now, don't think about Death Eaters, or dark tasks, or any silly old Dark Lords, just clear your mind and relax," she whispered.

He nodded, already more relaxed than he'd been in a while. Soon the massage ended, but he would've been happy with sitting there for hours, simply letting her work out all of the tension in his body long into the night. He leaned on her, and was soon aware that Charlotte had one of his hands in hers, humming a soft tune as she absently traced patterns his palm.

"Better?" she asked, smiling at his peaceful expression. He nodded. "Your thoughts clear of anything negative?" He nodded again. "Good." She smiled serenely.

His mind was instead filled with thoughts of Charlotte: what he loved about her, about what the future could hold for them. Draco stared into the dark brown pools of light that were her eyes, "Charlotte?"

"Yes, Draco? What's on your mind?" she was sitting next to him, her focus on his hand that she held.

"You." Her eyes met his, and when he leaned in to kiss her, she didn't resist. "Thank you—for that massage, and for everything you did for me last night," he murmured against her mouth after the kiss ended.

"You're welcome, my liege," she smiled sweetly. "What a relief to be free from all of that stress, wouldn't you say?"

"Definitely."

Charlotte then gently pulled away, and stood, beginning to search for something to change into. Draco couldn't help but notice how lovely Charlotte looked in her swimsuit, and of how graceful her neck looked with her hair tied up loosely in her hair clip. He tried to distract himself, but his gaze constantly drifted back to marveling at her every feature.

She noticed him staring at her, and quickly looked herself over. "What is it?" she asked, worried, "Is my hair all askew? Or is it my swimming suit? Do you not like it?"

"No, just the opposite. You look divine," he smoothly replied.

"Oh hush, Draco." She couldn't hide her blush very well, (seeing as she'd been thinking similar things about how nice Draco looked in just his swim suit), but she rolled her eyes, "Now come on. Let's order some room service."

* * *

The two of them spent the next couple of days recuperating and choosing their next destination, looking for an effective place to keep Draco hidden from any searching Death Eaters.

"What about my parents' home? They'd never suspect it! You're a Pureblood, and as such, you'd be expected never to go anywhere near Muggles. Unless…" Charlotte paused, "you wouldn't want to go there, that's fine. I mean, Muggles aren't—"

"No, I like that idea. Your parents were very kind to me when I came to visit on Christmas. I don't mind that they're Muggles, I'm not as hard-hearted as my parents or the other Death Eaters," he frowned at the thought, but continued with a smile, "Your home would be lovely, and a very obscure hiding place for me, for us."

The following morning, they gathered their few belongings, and made themselves look presentable. On their way out, Draco stiffened, "He's there, the man who admitted us."

"The owner? Who you told we were married?" Charlotte asked, and looked in the direction of the desk.

Draco nodded slightly, "What do we do?"

"Act like a married couple!" she replied easily.

"Here's something to add to the act," Draco said, something occurring to him. He took Charlotte's hand, produced his wand, and muttered a little incantation. On Charlotte's third left finger appeared a delicate-looking diamond ring. A smile spread across his face as Charlotte's eyes widened in pleasure. "Come along, my dear."

Upon reaching the desk, the man working there brightened as he saw Charlotte, "Ah, if it isn't Miss Charlotte LaRocque! I never forget a regular customer, you know."

"How are you doing, Mr. Fredricks?" she smiled pleasantly.

He nodded, "I'm doing just fine, but it's been a while, hasn't it, my dear? Since you went off to that private school, I've not seen you as much."

"Indeed. But, my husband and I simply had to stop here on our way up to see some family, isn't that right, dearest?" she glanced amiably at Draco.

"But of course." Draco smiled back at her. He then turned his attention to Mr. Fredricks, "Now, about payment for the room, we really must be on our way."

Charlotte nudged him teasingly, "Draco, relax. Pardon him, sir, but we are in a bit of a hurry."

"No problem at all," he assured them, and added curiously, "So, Miss Charlotte, you've gone and gotten yourself married, have you?"

"Yes, this is my husband, Draco." She put a hand on his chest.

"Ah, indeed, we met the other night. A nice fellow, if he's earned your favor. May I see the ring, my dear?" Mr. Fredricks inquired, nosiness getting the best of him. With a furtive glance at Draco, she lifted her hand onto the desk, and the hotel manager's eyes widened. "Very nice, a beautiful stone. Congratulations!"

Draco replied, proudly, "Thank you, sir. Now, concerning the room…"

"Of course, of course! Now, let's see what it all comes to…" He went about calculating the exact cost. They paid and were on their way, despite Charlotte's protesting that the rate was far too low. Mr. Fredricks simply wouldn't hear of it, saying he could ask no more of an old friend and her new husband.

As they left, Draco drew his wand and spoke softly, "_Obliviate_!" so that everyone who had seen them these past couple of days would forget their faces, for fear of Death Eaters searching for him. The ring on Charlotte's finger disappeared as well, and he saw Charlotte's face fall. "Don't worry, you'll see one again soon, I promise!" he squeezed her hand, and they put on their robes.

"Are you feeling strong enough to Apparate? If not, I can…" when she shook her head, he nodded resolutely, "All right. I need you to hold on tightly. This is a tricky process, and if you stay close, you'll be fine. I'm going to warn you, though, it is a bit scary at first."

"It's fine, let's just get going before we get any more looks for wearing these unfashionable non-Muggle robes." Charlotte joked, as no one was in sight. She embraced Draco, waiting patiently.

Draco looked about him, making sure that no one would see them. He took a deep breath, concentrated on visualizing Charlotte's home, with a flourish of his robes, they Disapparated. It was unlike normal Disapparation, however, as it appeared that Draco and Charlotte collapsed into a thick plume of black smoke and shot into the air, leaving a black trail as they made their way to their destination. They reformed in front of Charlotte's home, the black smoke fading around them as they regained their normal physical forms. It was raining lightly, giving the neighborhood a crisp, spring scent.

"It's all over, Charlotte," he whispered, and helped her to release her iron grip around his waist with a snicker. "Are you all right?"

She didn't reply at first, but finally said, "I… I'm fine. That was very strange, almost like I was lost in the darkness of it. And you must go through that each time you Appparate." She looked at him, sympathetic.

Draco shrugged, "I don't mind, I'm used to it. How are you feeling?" he replied, placing a stray hair behind her ear, "Do you need to sit down?"

She nodded, and sat on a bench to regain her bearings. She was a little dizzy from the chaotic nature of Death Eater Apparition, and Draco informed her that was completely normal. Once her balance was restored, she led the way to the front door.

She knocked on the door, and Mrs. LaRocque answered, "Charlotte? It's lovely to see you, but what brings you here? Don't you still have school for another few weeks?" and when she noticed Draco was there, too, she added, "Hello, Draco, nice to see you again. Is something wrong, dear?"

Charlotte glanced at Draco quickly, and said, "Dumbledore's dead, and the school's no longer safe for us."

"Oh my! Come in, you'll get soaked if you stay outside any longer." Mrs. LaRocque took Charlotte's and Draco's traveling robes and let them inside. She got them each a cup of cocoa, and sat them down in the living room. "Now, tell me what's going on."

"Well, to make a long story short, a dangerous group of dark wizards got into Hogwarts and they… they killed Professor Dumbledore." Charlotte spoke plainly.

"That's terrible! And who exactly is this dangerous group you speak of, and why aren't you two still in school?"

Draco stepped in, "They're called Death Eaters, the followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or as they call him, the Dark Lord. They destroyed some of the school, and killed two people besides Dumbledore that night. Let's just say that it isn't a safe atmosphere for someone like your daughter when they're around."

"What do you mean, 'someone like my daughter'?" She frowned at him.

"He means someone who is Muggle-born, Mother," Charlotte answered, "He doesn't mean anything by it, it's just a fact."

He nodded, "Death Eaters discriminate against less-than 'pure' wizards, and especially Muggles and witches and wizards of non-magical birth are usually seen as the enemy, and are at constant risk and danger."

"You speak of these 'Death Eaters' as if you know them quite well, Draco." Her mother noted.

"Yes, well, that's because I… I've had dealings with them in the past. And if I'm found, I'm going to be in trouble with them."

"Draco had to run to get away from the Death Eaters a few nights ago, and I helped him to escape. Now he's trying to stay under the radar until it's safe. Classes have been canceled due to the danger the school has been in, for the time being, anyway."

"Is there anything you two need?"

"Yes, Draco needs to stay hidden here for a while, if possible, Mother."

"Of course, dear. You're always welcome in our home, Draco. And you're staying, too, _Cheval_?"

Charlotte nodded. Draco replied, "Thank you, ma'am, I really appreciate it. Anything I can do to repay you for your kindness, just let me know."

"Not at all, Draco! Make yourself at home," she smiled, and went about making sure the guest bedroom was ready to use.

"I guess you're safe until Snape or the Dark Lord summons you," Charlotte sighed. "Are you hungry? I sure am, and I smell banana bread. Would you care for a slice?"

"Yes, but I'll be right back, okay? I've got something I need to do," Draco called back, standing and turning to go in the direction Mrs. LaRocque went. He found her fluffing up pillows on the guest bed, and cleared his throat.

She looked up at him, "Yes, Draco?"

"I just wanted to say thank you once again, and assure you that since we left Hogwarts a few days ago, I promise you I've done everything in my power to make sure Charlotte has been safe and happy. I love your daughter, and I could never let anything happen to her."

"I know you do, and I really am grateful she has someone like you by her side. She loves you to pieces, too, you know." Charlotte's mother smirked at his light blush. "Now, go help yourself to the loaves of banana bread I just baked, you must be starved from all of that running!"

Draco nodded, and went back to Charlotte, who had produced a plateful of banana bread slices. He smiled, and took one, happy to be surrounded for once by people who really appreciated and cared about him.

He glanced at his unusually cool Dark Mark, and thought, _If they never summon me, I think I'd be perfectly fine with that…_ Flashing Charlotte a haughty smile, to which she rolled her eyes, he ate his breakfast and felt content, almost at home. If only that feeling were to last…


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

"_Wingardium leviosa._"

"_Levicorpus!_"

"That's the wrong kind of spell, Draco. We're trying to lift an armchair, not a first year student!"

"Oh, be quiet! It isn't my fault I wasn't paying any attention when we learned that charm!"

"We learned it in our first year, Mr. Malfoy, not too difficult. You were even in my class, I believe. How can you not remember this simple little charm?"

"My efforts in that silly school were far below my potential back then, you should know that, Charlotte." He tossed his head, giving off his usual superior air.

"You know you like it at that silly school of ours," Charlotte levitated the chair easily, and Draco stood there, his arms folded in mock displeasure.

"It is better than being at home, I suppose. But once I found you," he put his arms around her, trying to sabotage her efforts to help her mother clean, "I never wanted to leave that blasted castle!"

"Draco, let go! I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I can't help thinking you are hindering my efforts to clean the house. Now, can you assist me, Master Malfoy?"

"Fine," he released her, and went about enchanting the vacuum cleaner to zip quickly underneath the armchair she had lifted into the air. Once it had done its job, he returned it to its place with a lazy flick of his wand.

Charlotte set down the armchair, and looked about the room. With Draco's reluctant help, she had cleaned the entire main floor, mostly using magic. She wanted to make sure she was being helpful as much as she could, being that she had brought an extra lodger into their home unannounced. Despite this, the LaRocques didn't mind having Draco around, and for Charlotte's seven-year-old brother Adrian, he was an unending source of amusement.

* * *

In the past few weeks, Draco and Charlotte had grown closer as she took many opportunities to teach him about her world as a Muggle-born witch, how she could be a part of both realms, and the simple pleasures he was unaware of in the Muggle world.

At first, Draco resisted her little trips, but when she pleaded with him, he complied reluctantly. They would go to Muggle museums, shops, and other sights around the town where Charlotte grew up and surrounding areas. Draco, although he wouldn't willingly admit it, actually started to look forward to their outings, taking pleasure in Charlotte's enthusiasm in showing him her world.

When people would see them, they couldn't help but smile at the white-blond-haired boy who looked at everything as if it were foreign and new to him, and the girl who was always with him, smiling as she pointed things out around them, giggling at his reactions and seeming lack of knowledge of his surroundings.

"Tell me," Draco said one afternoon to her as they walked down a street full of little shops, "Do you ever wonder what life would be like if you weren't Muggle-born?"

"Sometimes, I suppose," she shrugged, "I didn't know I was a witch until I was 11, but I enjoyed my childhood and the quirky, inexplicable little tricks I could do with my mind." She smirked at the memories, and continued, "And I don't know what I would do without my parents, my brother, or the rest of my Muggle family."

"They all know you're a witch, right?" Draco busied his hands by picking a few leaves off a nearby tree and stripping them down to their veins.

She laughed at his slightly destructive activity, tilting her head in amusement, "Yes, most of them do. Sometimes I use magic to help my family around the house, but I often stick to the Muggle way of doing things when I'm around my extended family. It's just easier to blend in, and not seem like a freak to my more conservative relatives. My cousins, however, love when I show them little spells." She stopped walking, and turned to face Draco, "But I'm proud to be a witch, no matter what my origins were. Would you like me better if I wasn't Muggle-born?" She stopped walking and looked closely at Draco.

"I don't know…" he stopped too, sitting down on a bench, thinking. He rubbed his hands together, ridding them of the remaining leaf matter. "It would definitely have been easier for both of us, but I don't think I'd be where I am, in many respects. So, I don't think I would. I love you just the way you are!" He wrapped his arms around Charlotte and pulled her into his lap.

She laughed, "Oh, Draco! You're incorrigible."

"You know that's not true," he met Charlotte's eyes as he spoke.

She agreed, "That's right, I do. Yet another reason why _I_ love _you_!" with a peck on his cheek, she added, "Where to now, Draco?"

"I'm hungry."

"As am I. Shall we head back home for dinner?"

"What's your mother making?"

"I can't say…" she looked up, as if trying to hide something. "Actually, I'm not sure, but she said it would be something delicious."

"I see," he mused, "Well, your mother's cooking is very good, I assume it will be top-notch. And that means a lot coming from me, what with my privileged upbringing and impeccable taste." He tossed his head, mocking superiority.

She elbowed Draco in the ribs, and stood, "Well, _Monsieur_ Malfoy, that must mean you are too privileged to be seen with a commoner like me! I'm nothing but a peasant compared to you," she put a hand on her heart, mocking dismay.

"You are no peasant, Charlotte. You're much, much more." He stood, and brought her close so that their faces were inches apart. Then, he backed up and spoke properly, "I'd be honored to escort you back to your home, my lady, if that is our next destination?"

"Why thank you," she smiled, and looped her arm through his. Upon their return, Draco hesitated as they started on the path to the front door. "What is it, Draco? Are you feeling all right?"

He nodded, and asked her, "If you'd had a choice of how you'd like to be spending your first weeks of summer holiday, I mean… You don't mind being stuck with me, do you? I don't want to be a bother to you or your family. I'm very thankful for all you've done for me, and I've had a nice time, but I…"

Charlotte put her finger on his mouth to quiet his nervous babbling, and reassured him, "I don't mind at all, Draco! I couldn't have chosen a better way to spend my summer. And my parents love having you around. Even little Adrian treats you like the brother he never had. To be honest, I wouldn't mind if things stayed this way, and if the Dark Lord never sent for you. I love spending my days with you, I only hope I'm not boring you."

"I could never be bored when I'm with you, Charlotte." He embraced her, content. He was suddenly filled with inspiration, and knew exactly what he wanted to do. He couldn't let this feeling (or the one who he shared it with) get away, no matter what hardships or consequences may come of it.

* * *

After a nice Mediterranean-style dinner, Draco bid Charlotte go ahead of him to her room, to amuse Adrian, who had just discovered a new insect in the yard, telling her he'd meet up with her in a bit. He approached Mrs. LaRocque at her post in the kitchen, washing dishes.

He asked, tentatively, "Uh, Mrs. LaRocque? Are you and your husband available at the moment? I would like to request an audience with the two of you."

Charlotte's mother was taken aback at his suddenly formal manner of speaking. During the meal, he had been more laid back, but still guarded, as usual. She replied, "Why, sure, I can spare some time, and Frederic is just reading the paper. Let me get him."

Draco enchanted the dishes, so they began to wash themselves, and Mrs. LaRocque smiled at him, grateful and amused. She left, and retrieved her husband from his favorite reading chair in the family room.

Draco took a seat at the now cleared dining room table, and waited for the Charlotte's parents to return. Shortly, the two Muggles sat across the table from him, observing him curiously, wondering what all this was about.

"Is something the matter, Draco? You look nervous," Mrs. LaRocque spoke first, a worried expression on her face. Draco shook his head, but it reminded him so much of how Charlotte looked at him when she was worried, so he had to take a deep breath to keep his composure.

"Not at all, I'm doing quite well," he shook his head, "But I was wondering, could I ask you two something that's very important? It's about the future…"

They nodded, waiting, most curious as to what he meant.

Draco suddenly felt very awkward, asking Muggles—supposedly his inferiors— for the biggest permission he had ever asked of anyone. He almost stood up and left without saying a word, but gathered his courage, thoughts of Charlotte flooding his mind. He finally said, "I would like to ask for you daughter Charlotte's hand…" he swallowed and took another deep breath, "…in marriage."

The two parents' eyes widened in shock—the father simply looked at Draco with scrutiny, and the mother's hand shot up to her mouth in surprise.

After a brief pause, Draco added, "Not right now, of course, my life is still rather mixed up, but I… I merely mean to say…" He cleared his mind of all unease and spoke purposefully, "Charlotte is everything to me. She has helped me though this terrible year, and made me feel like I was worth something. She looked past my outwardly cold exterior, and learned to love me for what I really am. Whenever I'm around her, the world gets so much brighter. I love her dearly, and I want to make her the happiest girl in the world. I know I'm not 18 yet, and a lot of things are still up in the air about my future. One thing I'm sure of, without a doubt, is that Charlotte is the one who I'm meant to be with for the rest of my life. But I want to wait until my life is a little more stable, and I wanted to clear it with you first, seeing as I don't know how long I'll be here in the first place."

They were taken aback at his honesty, unsure how to respond, so they simply sat there for a time, looking thoughtfully from Draco, to each other, and back again. Draco looked down at his folded hands, defeated.

"I apologize, I…" he stood, afraid that his efforts were for naught. "I guess I'll be going now." He turned to leave, and then felt a hand fall lightly on his shoulder.

"Wait," Mrs. LaRocque said gently, "That was very bold of you to stick your neck out like that."

"In the LaRocque family, we value that kind of confidence." Charlotte's father added, nodding. He continued, "When it comes to our daughter, we want what's best for her. Does Charlotte return these feelings?"

"Very much so, sir," Draco agreed confidently. "She shows it in everything she does."

Her mother smiled, "That sounds just like her: putting her whole self into the things she cares so deeply about. I can see how much she cares for you, and you for her. It makes me feel so happy for you both."

After a pause, and long, meaningful eye contact between Mr. and Mrs. LaRocque, her father finally nodded, smiling at Draco, "You have our blessing to ask Charlotte to marry you."

Draco visibly lit up at this, and smiled, unsure how to respond. He shook both of their hands, "I, uh… thank you very much, this… Thank you!"

"Don't mention it. Go on now, I know Charlotte's wondering where you are. Oh, and Draco," Mrs. LaRocque added, "you can rest assured that we won't mention this to anyone until you make a move, when you feel ready."

Draco blushed a bit, nodded gratefully, and went straight to Charlotte's room, where she was sitting on her bed and showing Adrian how to identify a bug he had caught in a jar. He smiled at Charlotte, and came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her hair.

"And that part in the middle there is called the thorax. Why, hello there, Draco," Charlotte laughed lightly.

"Good evening, Charlotte."

She turned to face him, and his bright expression made her smile. "You're in a good mood, aren't you? Why's that? Did someone you loathe get struck by lightning?" she jibed.

"No, although that would be amusing," he smirked. "I'm just happy that you're safe and happy and here with me, my little filly!"

"You never call me by a nickname, what's going on?" she raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

"A little filly? She's more like a silly little pony! And an irritable pony at that!" Adrian began teasing his older sister, egged on by the annoyed look on her face.

Draco came to her rescue, "If she were so ill-tempered, would she be here helping you with your insect? I didn't think so. So, she's _my_ little filly, and I love her!" He planted a kiss on her nose.

"Eww! I don't like that mushy stuff. I'm taking my bug outside and finding him a friend." Adrian stood, and started to leave.

Draco called after him, "Hold on, Adrian! We'll come with you." He took Charlotte's hand and led her out into the backyard, where they spent the evening searching for insects. Draco mostly watched, slightly repulsed by the dirtiness of it, but happy to be spending time with Charlotte and her little brother.

* * *

That night while he waited to meet Charlotte in her room to talk and sleep by her side (what he usually did, outside of her parents' sphere of awareness), Draco paced about the guest bedroom, feeling on edge. His mind was racing, _I can't believe I did that. I got her parents' permission to ask her to marry me! Where did that little bit of courage come from?_ He sat down on the bed.

_And am I even ready for this?_ Draco was pacing again, restless, _It's true that I love Charlotte more than I've ever loved anything in my life, and that I want to let her know just how much I adore her, but this is a huge step._ He then had a dreadful thought, _What if she says no? And pushes me away, out of her life because of my extremely forward and significant proposal?_

_No,_ he reassured himself, _she wouldn't do such a thing. If she were like that, she would have shut me out of her life when she learned I was a Death Eater. I have time to figure everything out, and I'm willing to take that risk! Don't stress yourself out, Draco; you don't want to ruin your time with Charlotte._

He still wasn't sure of the when and where, but he knew he was going to propose. Draco took a deep breath, as he knew he had some time to figure out how he would go about this daunting task he had assigned himself, a duty to his heart, not to the Dark Lord. He silently wished that the Dark Lord would wait a while longer to summon him. It was evident that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had certainly become more active recently, according to stories in the recent issues of the Daily Prophet Charlotte regularly received. There had even been talk of a supposed conspiracy about a jailbreak in Azkaban.

When Draco finally went to her room, Charlotte was standing, looking through a book. He sat on her bed, and she joined him, leaning on his shoulder. He spoke softly, "What's that?"

"My old book of fairy tales, I nearly forgot I had it. I used to be so fascinated with these stories, and the magic they entailed. Who knew I'd find out soon afterwards that I could do magic, too?" She laughed to herself.

Draco smiled. She was so sweet, so innocent. He stood, and looked out her window towards the woods where he had first actually admitted having feelings for Charlotte. He couldn't deny that he was tired, and he yawned loudly. Moments later, he heard Charlotte shut the book and lay down on her bed, sighing. Draco grabbed a blanket and joined her, putting an arm around her shoulders.

As they lay there, Draco whispered to her, "I would be lost if you weren't in my life, Charlotte. I'm going to hate leaving when the Dark Lord summons me. Would you be upset if I became a permanent part of your existence?"

"Of course not, Draco, I already think…" She paused when she realized what he'd said last, and added, "Why? What are you implying?" She was suddenly awake, curious.

"Nothing," he shrugged, stretching, "It's just a question. Thank you for another lovely day, my dear."

"Mmhmm!" she said happily, and snuggled into the blankets, watching him. "I'm really going to hate letting you go."

"Don't worry about that, Charlotte. I'm here, and I love you," He held her close, nuzzling her. He planted a chaste kiss on her mouth, and whispered, "Good night, Charlotte." He yawned again, and let his eyes fall shut.

Charlotte studied his face, perplexed. _Why has he been in such a great mood tonight? And he was ever-so-affectionate and eager to spend time with me an Adrian this evening, too…Oh well, maybe he's heard some news about his family or something, I know how he worries…_ She took a deep breath, and snuggled further into the blankets and Draco's embrace, quickly falling asleep.

* * *

The following evening, as they helped to clear the table after dinner, (the Muggle way, as much as Draco loathed it) a sort of thank you, Draco offered to help clean the dishes. When Mrs. LaRocque asked what the occasion was, he simply shrugged, and continued to take dirty dishes off the table.

"He's been acting extra sweet all day, Mother. I sure didn't tell him to do this, and I have no idea what he's up to…" Charlotte smiled at him inquisitively, taking a plate from him and setting it in the sink.

A furtive glance directed at Charlotte betrayed Draco's cool expression momentarily, and when he felt a couple pairs of curious eyes on him, he blushed slightly. He shook his head, regained his composure, and reached for another pile of dishes.

Suddenly, a searing pain in his wrist caused Draco to drop the plates he had grabbed back onto the table with a loud clatter. He gripped his wrist, his rapid intake of breath a loud hiss. Draco's head was pounding, and he could vaguely hear Charlotte's worried voice.

"Draco? Draco!" she was saying, "Can you hear me?"

She put a hand on his shoulder, a light touch, and when she caught Draco's distraught gaze, almost all of the color left her face and her eyes widened as she whispered, "Oh no…" she let her hand drop, and backed up a few steps. Draco rolled up his left sleeve, and he watched with horror as his Dark Mark writhed with a wicked, haunting fury.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

"Draco?" Charlotte asked, weakly. Mrs. LaRocque stood to come to his aid, but Charlotte shook her head, stopping her, as there was nothing any of them could do. "Is it… You-Know-Who?" she spoke softly, afraid.

He nodded slowly, and Charlotte apologized, excusing both her and Draco to the privacy of her bedroom. The others simply nodded, confused and worried as to what was going on.

Once Charlotte shut the door, Draco sat down on her bed, trying to get a grip, and to speak without his voice breaking. "He's summoning me now!" He panted against the pain in his wrist.

"Then… you have to go, don't you?" her tone was remorseful, and filled with unease.

He nodded unhappily, "The Dark Lord is not merciful to those who ignore his call."

"And you don't want to push him, do you?" Charlotte put a consoling hand on his shoulder, looking worriedly at his Dark Mark.

"Oh, Charlotte! What if he aims to kill me? I mean, I failed at an important task and practically deserted him!" Draco spoke in a distressed voice.

"Professor Snape told you he'd calm the situation down, and give You-Know-Who time to come to his 'senses' before he called you back. In order for him to assure you of such a thing, Snape must be held in high regard by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and have the power to do such things. Just have faith, and you'll be fine!" Her own voice was wavering despite her efforts to steady it. She feared for him, too, wishing in her heart that everything would be okay.

Draco nodded, and tried to reassure Charlotte—as well as himself—that he'd see her again. "I promise you, I'll come back for you when I can. Just stay low and out of trouble, and enjoy your summer holiday," he wrapped his arms around Charlotte, and held her tightly, as if to brand into his memory how her embrace felt. She held him, too, wishing she would never have to let go. Their eyes met, and Draco leaned forward to fervently kiss Charlotte. She returned the kiss, aware of the gentle urgency behind it, savoring every moment.

"I love you," she whispered once the kiss broke. "So much. Don't forget that." She wiped her eyes, clearing the tears before they fell, trying to appear strong for him.

"I love you, too." He replied softly, feeling terrible that she was so worried for him, but still tried to stay supportive. "And I could never forget that, my dear." He placed his hand gently on one side of her face, stroking her cheekbone and admiring her every feature.

"Now remember what I've said: do your best to stay true to yourself while you are out in the world, serving that terrifying wizard you're bound to…" she trailed off. "Come on, you had best get on your way," she managed a smile, and he took her hand, fondly.

Draco led her back out to the front door, and on his way, stopped and bid Charlotte's family goodbye, and thanked them for all of their generosity and hospitality. When Adrian asked why he had to go, he didn't know what to say.

Charlotte answered for him, "Something's come up, and Draco doesn't need to stay in hiding anymore. He's going back to his home, to see his parents for the first time in a long while." Draco squeezed her hand in thanks.

"Well, young man, best wishes, and remember that you're always welcome in our home," Charlotte's father assured him, with an implying nod towards Charlotte, who had gone to grab his things. Draco nodded in return, thanked them all again, and the two left.

At the end of Charlotte's front walk, she looked around to make sure nobody was outside or near where they were. She turned to Draco, "Ready to go?" He nodded, and with one final goodbye kiss, Draco Disapparated. As he faded from view, Charlotte fought back tears at the fear of never seeing him again.

~

Once Draco rematerialized, he was at his home, Malfoy Manor, where the Dark Lord told him to appear. The front door opened on its own, a mental incantation on Draco's part. A man who sat halfway across the entry hall greeted him curtly. It was a Death Eater that Draco didn't recognize, but he didn't stop to find out as he walked past him into the dining room, where he heard familiar voices.

"Ah, the prodigal son finally returns!" a chilling voice spoke as he entered, the long room dark, lit only by a few torches. Draco had to fight his every urge to cringe and shy away.

Draco nodded respectfully to the Dark Lord, "I apologize for my absence."

The detached voice added, "Yes, where did you go off to? I realize your task was more difficult than I imagined. Snape enlightened me of the circumstances, and how you were prevented many times from completing it." His voice became more angry, but calmed back down, "But, you did get some of your fellow Death Eaters into the castle, and they made some much needed damage to the school and its false confidence about its impenetrability! And for that, I commend you, despite your failure." A low voice interrupted him, as another new Death Eater spoke quietly to the Dark Lord. A sinister smile crossed his face, "Speaking of failures, I have a surprise for you this evening, Draco. Send him in."

The far door to the dining room opened, and a disheveled mess of a man stumbled in, his long, straight white hair falling about his face. He looked up, and another pair of silver eyes mirrored Draco's gaze.

"Father?" Draco asked, softly.

The man nodded, "Draco, my boy, is that you?"

Draco went to him, and embraced him lightly.

"Now that the reunion is over, it's time we resumed our meeting. Since our numbers are growing, and the Azkaban jailbreak was a success, we must continue with our campaign. Rest for the night, and come tomorrow, we will press on!" With a beckoning hiss to his reptilian companion, a snake named Nagini, he left the dining room. "It's going to take a lot to earn back my trust, boy," Voldemort muttered audibly, brushing past him with a breeze that caused Draco to shudder.

Draco's mother came up to her husband and son, embracing them both.

"How you've grown, son!" Lucius Malfoy exclaimed quietly once they were in a separate room, putting his hands on Draco's shoulders.

His mother added, "Yes, we're so glad you've returned. Where have you been, anyway? We were worried sick about you." Narcissa's tone was actually concerned, a first, to Draco's knowledge. Since when was she concerned about him, her only, haughty, and lazy son?

"I've been here and there, waiting patiently for the Dark Lord to call me back. I felt terrible for letting him down, Dumbledore got the jump on me, suspected me the whole time, and sabotaged me, so I had to run before anything happened to me." He mocked anger, effectively, as his parents appeared to buy it.

"It's fine, my boy, Dumbledore was a formidable wizard, the only one the Dark Lord feared," Lucius reassured him. "But now that he aims to find the Elder Wand, we will soon be able to follow the Dark Lord to total domination of the Wizarding world!"

Draco nodded, resolute, but on the inside, he feared what such an outcome would bring.

~

Weeks passed, and Voldemort continued his campaign for more followers, gaining many, and killing those who refused. The Malfoys weren't allowed to attend these escapades, as they had to protect the Death Eater base that was their home. Draco didn't mind, but it was annoying having to constantly play host to at least five Death Eaters, and many more when the Dark Lord returned with new followers to educate. One dark and dreary night, he did not return with a few new Death Eaters, instead he had a bigger prize in his grasp. He gathered his most devoted Death Eaters for a meeting, as he had an impressive demonstration for them all.

Draco reluctantly followed his parents into the guest dining room, and what he saw made him feel sick to his stomach. His father leaned heavily on his snake-headed cane, and sat down slowly. He sat next to his father, and on his other side sat a big Death Eater, whose name he had heard but did not care to remember.

Draco's focus was not on the matter at hand, which concerned something to do with the ministry, but on a figure that was bound and suspended in the air some distance from the table. Draco wondered fearfully what the Dark Lord had in mind, and moments later his dread was fulfilled. Voldemort flicked his wand, and the figure floated slowly to halt directly above the middle of the table. It was a woman, and someone he recognized, but couldn't place where he'd seen her…

Voldemort then spoke, conceitedly. "I'm sure you know who this is, Snape, but for those who are not aware, this is Charity Burbage, a professor at Hogwarts school that some of my followers caught speaking with Muggles and thus kidnapped her, punishing her for her crime." He paused, smiling to himself, "What she teaches at that school is a most unforgivable subject: Muggle Studies. She thinks we should interact with and accept these creatures, even _mate_ with them." He spat out the words.

Bellatrix made a sound of disgust, sticking her tongue out and wriggling like she'd tasted something foul. Draco looked very nervous, unsure what to think. Professor Burbage was floating over the table, gasping slightly, her throat making an awful sound. It was obvious she was under the Cruciatus Curse as well as some other tortuous spell, and couldn't move besides a little twitch now and then. He didn't like to see even a teacher that he hated in such pain, and an unsettled look crossed his face.

She suddenly moaned slightly, and Voldemort yelled behind him, "Wormtail! I told you to keep our guest silent!"

"Yes, my Lord," a mouse-like man muttered pathetically, reapplying the Cruciatus Curse, and to a higher degree.

Draco jumped at the commotion slightly, but regained his composure before anyone noticed, trying to remain aloof.

"Severus…" the suspended woman spoke softly, "Severus, please help, you're my friend…"

Draco glanced at Snape, to see how he'd react, but Snape's expression didn't change. He ignored her plea for help. Voldemort smirked, amused, and raised his wand as he spoke coldly, "_Avada Kedavra!_" And the witch fell to the ground with a hollow, haunting thud. Draco could barely keep a hold of his consciousness, and when the Dark Lord added gently, "Nagini, dinner!" his giant snake slithered onto the table, and lunged for the corpse. Draco fainted, nauseated by the atrocity he'd just witnessed.

When he awoke, he was lying on a couch, alone. His mother entered the room, carrying a bowl of water and a washcloth. She went to his side, "Are you feeling all right, Draco? You had quite a spill earlier."

"What happened?"

"When you passed out, the Dark Lord had you removed from the dining room and brought here. What was wrong, dear?" she asked, dabbing his forehead with the damp cloth.

"I must have fainted from hunger. I haven't had much of an appetite lately, and I didn't get to eat much today," he shrugged, being honest.

"That would make sense, but the Dark Lord didn't see it that way…"

"What do you mean?"

"He took it as a sign of weakness. So, he proclaimed that he means to make more use of you. Make you do more of his dirty work, since you failed at your main task and he thinks you fainted at the sight of a witch being killed and eaten by his pet." Narcissa shuddered as she finished the sentence. "He believes you need to prove that you're worthy to be a Death Eater."

"But I am worthy, Mother!" he whined. "Can I help it if I've been feeling sick lately?"

"No, I suppose not. But, I want you to be aware that he may have something in mind for you, and I want you to be ready. How is your Dark Magic?"

"I might be little out of practice," he shrugged, a little indignant.

Narcissa whispered as another Death Eater entered the room, "Then I suggest you get working on that, so you're ready. I don't want you to disgrace us, son."

Draco nodded, and the man who had just entered asked brusquely, with a thin voice, "Is he doing all right now?"

Narcissa nodded, "Yes, he's fine. He's been a little under the weather lately, and the stress and excitement of this evening's events pushed him over the edge."

"Good," the Death Eater left to report back to the Dark Lord.

With a curt, indicating nod, Narcissa left him alone to rest some more.

Draco stood, and looked out a window into the darkness outside. He needed to practice his Dark Magic, to remember how to do all those terrible spells. He hated them, but it was necessary for him to remain alive. Without another thought, he went to the basement, where he practiced Dark spells and charms, reminding himself of all the terrible, powerful, and strangely wondrous, things he could do with the darkness in his soul.

~

The ensuing summer weeks proved to be very profitable for Lord Voldemort and his disciples, as they gained momentum and new recruits from all over the country. One bright mid-August morning, Voldemort called his most trusted Death Eaters together in a courtyard at Malfoy Manor.

"A momentous day!" he exclaimed when everyone had congregated, smiling viciously, "Today, we must take the Ministry of Magic! Thanks to the successful infiltration of our spy Pius Thicknesse into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, we have a secure foothold in the door to the Ministry, all we need to do is wrench it open to the power of Dark Magic! I cannot be seen in public, my presence is far too dangerous of yet, so you must go in my stead. Now, dear subjects, we are off!"

And one by one, all of the Death Eaters Disapparated, plumes of black smoke shooting off in all directions. Draco and his parents tagged along as well. When they got to the Ministry, they sealed off all the exits. After a moment of listening to the sounds of daily work, someone gave the signal for them to act. Suddenly, all Hell broke loose. The Main Hall filled with a commotion of screaming, casting of spells, and laughter of a few Death Eaters who took pleasure in torturing and killing members of the Ministry that got in the way. Within minutes, the Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, was dead, and the Ministry came under complete control of the Death Eaters, under the direction of the newly appointed Minister of Magic, Pius Thicknesse, a loyal and politically savvy follower of the Dark Lord.

The commotion of it all exhilarated Draco, as much as he hated to admit it, but it came at a cost. After it was all over, it was harder to Disapparate than he anticipated, and when he returned and was able to relax, he found he was covered in bruises and cuts he hadn't noticed before. _Must've been from the battle,_ he thought to himself, gasping when he touched an open wound_._ He went to a mirror, and found his face to be untouched, thankfully, but shrapnel from the breaking glass and other wreckage from the raid on the Ministry had cut up his arms. Dead tired, Draco went right to bed after a feast celebrating the Ministry victory, without pausing to bid anyone goodnight or even to change clothes.

In the middle of that night, Draco was awoken by an angry yell he knew all to well: the Dark Lord wasn't pleased, yelling at someone, and he was thankful that he was not the one in trouble, as when the Dark Lord disciplined those who crossed them, few came out of it without passing out or being severely injured. He began to drift back to sleep when…

"Bring me the boy! DRACO MALFOY!" a voice bellowed, and he sat up straight in bed, startled and suddenly very awake. Draco went immediately to the source of the voice, and found two Death Eaters: Antonin Dolohov and Thorfinn Rowle, dressed as city workers and groveling at Voldemort's feet.

"We're sorry, my Lord, I don't know what came over us, we must have—" Rowle muttered, almost incoherent with fear.

"I don't want to hear your excuses!" Voldemort snapped, "You summoned me to a Muggle place of business in the middle of the night, and for no reason at all!"

"There was a reason, I assure you, my Lord," Dolohov growled unsteadily.

The Dark Lord looked at him, mocking curiosity, "Oh? Then do tell, you worms!" He waited for an answer, and then added over their incoherent babbling, "You forgot, didn't you? Well, you'll pay for summoning me falsely. Not that I minded killing that Muggle girl, but all that attention before I'm completely invincible is unforgivable unless you have good reason!" He then pointed to Draco, who stood a few feet inside the room, frozen with a mixture of fear and confusion as to the situation. He didn't show his fear, and pushed it deep within him, in case the Dark Lord decided to use Legilimency on him. "Draco, how nice of you to join us. These two disgraces summoned me to a Muggle city only moments ago, only to find that they had no idea why they called me! One unnecessary, yet enjoyable, Muggle death and much groveling later, here we are. What happens to Death Eaters who summon me without good cause?"

"Uh, I… I'm not sure, my Lord, I can't imagine the disgrace it must be. The punishment must be very great," Draco spoke quietly, trying to say the right thing.

"Exactly right, my boy. Now," Voldemort approached Draco, "I want to prove to them that they cannot abuse their abilities and must learn from their mistake. I want you, a powerful young wizard, to show them the error of their ways." When Draco shot him a confused look, he only added, "Go on, punish them. Prove to me your loyalty is much greater than theirs, that such abuses must be punished!"

"But… what do you want me to do?"

"Use your Dark Magic, Malfoy, torture them!" He whispered fiercely.

Draco hesitated, and slowly drew his wand. He didn't want to torture these Death Eaters, they had simply made a mistake, and he thought this a little severe. But, he didn't want to cross the Dark Lord. As he was deciding on a spell, Charlotte's often-reiterated words replayed in his mind: _'do your best to stay true to yourself… don't lose yourself in the darkness that is You-Know-Who…' _

When he finally settled on a curse, he put on a façade of disgust at the two men, no matter how forced it may have appeared. On the inside he regretted this with all of his being, holding tightly onto Charlotte's presence in his heart to prevent himself from falling into total darkness. He spoke the incantation, and Rowle and Dolohov began to cringe and cry out as unintelligible pain swept through both of them. Draco couldn't stop his face from betraying his pain at doing this, and the Dark Lord simply laughed as the two squirmed and writhed. As soon as his services were no longer required, and he was dismissed, Draco went into his room, locked the door, sat on his bed and broke down completely.

~ 


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

When Charlotte received the letter from Draco, she was overjoyed. She hadn't heard from him in weeks, and missed him terribly. She was confused by it, however, as it was very brief, and had a stressed undertone to it, as if he wrote it in secret. It read:

_My dear Charlotte,_

_ I need to see you. I feel so lost… he made me do something terrible and he said it wouldn't be the last time. I have so much I need to tell you. I'll be at your house sometime this coming Saturday, if I can get away. Surveillance is a little tight around here, but I can get around that easily. See you then, hopefully._

_Signed, Draco_

An owl she didn't recognize brought the letter only a few days before, and she anxiously awaited the weekend's arrival. She was excited to see him, but also felt nervous, wondering what it was he had to tell her.

* * *

She occupied herself doing yard work all that Saturday morning, and when she heard the characteristic _crack_ of Apparation, she rinsed the dirt off her hands, drying them on her shorts. She walked over to him, smiling, but noticed how his body language was rigid, and his face looked troubled and worn, almost defeated. She slowed, and called out gently, "Draco?"

Draco, who wore a troubled expression, brightened when heard Charlotte call his name and felt her fingers intertwine with his. He looked into her eyes with remorse, and spoke, his voice wavering, "I have so much on my mind, Charlotte; I don't know where to start. Is… anyone else home?"

She shook her head, "I'm home alone today. Come in, I'll get you something to eat, and you can tell me everything." Charlotte led him inside and sat him down on a couch, giving him tea and bringing him some sandwiches she had prepared. She sat next to him, her own lunch at her side, and squeezed his hand, "Now, go ahead, Draco, I'm listening."

Draco then described to her all that he had gone through in the weeks since he'd left her home: his introduction to even darker Magic, the death of Professor Burbage, the fall of the Ministry of Magic, and more, finishing by telling her of his most recent transgression.

When he finished, Charlotte whispered, "Torture?"

He nodded slowly, "It was horrible. I can't believe I actually went through with it. I feared what the Dark Lord would have done if I had refused… and now I hate myself for torturing them, and I'm really afraid I'm getting to be as bad as the rest of them!"

Looking into his sad, silver eyes, Charlotte replied, "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named must know you are not a purely evil person, and plays on your insecurity and fear to get you to do what you don't want to, to try and break your spirit. Despite his efforts, you feel bad about the things he makes you do. That proves to me that you are still the same Draco Malfoy I've always known. You are nowhere near as bad as they are. No matter what, I know you won't lose yourself."

He smiled, taking her hand, "Thank you, Charlotte, your words are a considerable comfort to me. I have you to thank for keeping me rooted in sanity, you know."

"Is that so?"

"Of course, who else could possibly have given me all of those supportive aphorisms and kind gestures to latch onto for refuge while being forced to act against my will?" His tone was cynical, but he really was grateful.

"I only wish I could be more of a help, actually be there with you." She sounded contrite.

"Oh, Charlotte, I would never wish you to be there, with all of those Death Eaters around, and sometimes the Dark Lord himself! I would fear for your life too much," Draco stood, and looked pensively out the window.

"Don't worry about me, Draco, I'm just fine."

"But, you're Muggle-born, and possibly the most evil wizard ever to have lived is on the rise. I don't want to lose you to his destruction!"

"Draco, I am well aware of what I am. But I know that you are keeping me safe as best as you can, protecting this house from Ministry monitoring and Death Eaters' searching alike. You've done so much to help us, and you can take comfort in the fact that there haven't been any Dementors or Death Eaters around here since you left." She reassured him.

"I know, I know, I…" he paused, "I'm sorry. I just can't stand the thought of something happening to you..." Charlotte sighed and wrapped her arms around him as he turned to face her, hoping her embrace assured him that she was fine.

Draco shook his head, amazed. He felt so much better now that he was with Charlotte, and was able to vent to her. She listened so well to all of his complaints, and she took everything he told her in stride, no matter how terrible, remaining by his side.

"Are you going to be in school this year? It's going to be our final year!" she asked him, brightly.

Draco sat down, and nodded, relieved at the change of subject and the reminder that he'd be far from the Dark Lord, at least for a time. "My parents want me to continue with my education, even with my duties as a Death Eater."

"Then I'll get to see you every day!" She snuggled up against him on the couch. Draco was pleased with that fact, but he bristled at the thought of how different things would be this year at Hogwarts. He didn't bring it up, though, as he didn't want to worry Charlotte.

He draped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her close, trailing his hand up and down her arm, "I've told you all I've done since I left, now what about you? Have you been keeping out of trouble?"

Charlotte laughed to herself, "I can't say my summer has been all that exciting…"

"Come now, I'm sure you've been keeping busy," he looked inquisitively at her.

"I've been volunteering at a shelter for injured and displaced magical creatures. But that's not very thrilling, is it?" she shrugged.

"That's great," he yawned, "Oh, I'm sorry, last night was a very late night for me. Every night this summer has been unbearably late."

"That's fine, Draco, you should rest. I'll go get you a blanket," she started to stand, but Draco's arms locked around her waist and he pulled her back down onto his lap.

"No, you'll stay right here. Your presence is rather soothing," he squeezed her waist and nuzzled her affectionately. "Stay right here and tell me about something lovely."

Charlotte took a deep breath, thinking, and repositioned herself at his side. "All right, let me see… Well, just last week, when I went to volunteer, there was a young centaur that had been separated from his family, and left behind, being injured in the process. He was so scared, tied up in a stall, but when I transfigured, he calmed right down…" She went on, telling him how she'd been working with him, helping him to heal and feel more comfortable around the people who were healing him. She finished, "…and soon he'll be well enough to be released. He's such a sweet soul, all he wants to do is be curious and have fun. Isn't that wonderful?"

"Mhmm," Draco agreed, enjoying how her face lit up while talking about what she loved. She paused, having finished with her story, and suddenly Draco began feeling very tired. He moved so that he was lying down on the couch, and reclined his head on a pillow. A light pressure on his abdomen made him look up, curious.

Charlotte had laid her hand on his stomach, and asked softly, "Do you mind if I use you as a pillow?"

"Of course not, you're light as a feather," he smiled tiredly.

She slowly set her head down sideways on his chest, and began tracing patterns on his stomach with her fingers. Charlotte filled the silence with pleasant chatter, looking up at his face periodically. When it became clear that he was falling asleep, she decided to play a little trick on him.

"Guess who showed up at the shelter yesterday?"

"Who?" He asked, half asleep.

"Cormac McLaggen."

"Hmm."

"His owl had a broken wing and I healed it myself."

"That's good."

"Yes, dear, and he was so grateful, he said that he would do anything to repay me…" Draco nodded, obviously not listening closely, and Charlotte smiled, deviously, "So… Cormac kissed me!"

Draco nodded again, but paused, as what she said registered in his mind. He lifted his head and frowned at her, confused, "He what?"

She laughed, "I thought you were falling asleep, Draco. What is it?"

"What did you say about McLaggen?"

"Nothing. I made that up, just checking if you were listening," Charlotte winked playfully.

"You're a sneaky little filly," he gave her a squeeze, and relaxed again, "I love you."

"And I love you, Draco." She sighed, getting comfortable, and recommenced tracing patterns on his stomach, listening to his heartbeat and feeling his chest rise and fall. Soon, they were both fast asleep.

* * *

When Charlotte awoke, Draco was still out cold. She stood carefully, so as not to jostle him, and went quietly into the kitchen to see to getting Draco a warm meal before he went back home. She glanced out the window as she gathered ingredients. It was just after sunset, the sky having a nice, dark red glow. She glanced back at the sleeping figure on her couch, and set about making some stew.

She heard the front door open, and looked about, smilng when she found it was her parents and little brother returned from their day trip to her distant cousin's home. Charlotte put a finger to her lips when they made to greet her, motioning towards sleeping Draco when they looked at her in slight confusion.

At the sight of him, her parents smiled, and Adrian went right to her side, and spoke in a moderately soft voice, "What'cha makin?" adding, "Is Draco staying for dinner?"

"I'm making stew! And I hope so, I've really missed him," she whispered in response, sighing.

"What did you two do while we were gone? Nothing too mushy, I hope…" Charlotte's mother teased, nudging her.

Charlotte blushed, and as she was about to answer, she felt a pair of arms encircle her waist and Draco spoke, laughing softly, "Nah, we just talked for a while, and then we fell asleep on the couch. She's been keeping me company all day, it's been a very pleasant day."

"How sweet," Mrs. LaRocque replied, "Would you care to stay for dinner? It smells like Charlotte is making something delicious this evening."

Draco nodded, "Yes, I think I will. It's been so long since I've had a good meal." After giving Charlotte one last warm hug, he went to wash up.

* * *

After dinner, Draco bid the LaRocques goodbye, and he and Charlotte went for a walk before Draco had to head back home. His excuse of feeling too unprepared to go on a scouting trip with the Dark Lord, and instead spending the day in the Forbidden Forest, had nearly run out, as his mother expected him back soon. He was actually just as able as any of the others, he simply didn't like to go force more people to follow the Dark Lord.

The two were talking pleasantly, when Draco slowed, "Charlotte? I want to warn you, the way things are run at school is most likely going to change this year, and in a possibly negative way, what with Dumbledore dead."

"How do you mean? Won't they just find a replacement headmaster?"

"Yes, but it will most likely be a Death Eater. The Dark Lord will have a link to the school, so things'll be very different, and more dangerous. He wouldn't dare enter, but I can't say Death Eaters won't be there."

"What do you mean?" Charlotte stopped, crossing her arms.

"A Death Eater is most likely to be headmaster of Hogwarts, and I've heard that there are going to be others present, in charge of classes or other things, like discipline. And I don't want…" he trailed off as Charlotte held her hand up slowly, looking about nervously.

She was shifting her weight uneasily from one foot to the other, and spoke quickly and quietly. "Draco, there's something wrong. Why is it suddenly so cold?"

He looked around slowly, "I'm not sure, but this fog isn't a good sign."

Charlotte shook her head in agreement, and began to shiver.

Draco could barely feel the cold, but took Charlotte in his arms, warming her up. "You're right, something is going on." He glanced over his shoulder, seeing nothing, but still feeling a sense of unease. He took Charlotte by the hand and led her to an alley. "This area shouldn't be targeted, not yet!" Draco muttered.

"What do you mean, 'not yet'? What do you think is out there?" She whispered, still shivering. "Death Eaters?"

Draco shrugged, "I'm not sure, but whatever it is shouldn't be here."

They both listened carefully, and soon a Dementor materialized from the darkness. The two of them stood up straight, and said clearly, "_Expecto Patronum!"_ A large dragon erupted from Draco's wand, and a horse from Charlotte's wand, and the two Patronuses charged at the Dementor, causing it to flee interminably. They were both pleased with the result, Charlotte feeling immensely relieved. Draco's enthusiasm faltered quickly, however, as he sensed the presence of something else, or rather, someone. He gently motioned for Charlotte to hide in the shadows a few feet from where they stood, asking her to stay silent.

"Who's there?" he called, and Draco emerged from the alley slowly. He frowned at who he saw before him. "Crabbe? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Malfoy," he spoke irritably, his rounded face contorted into a frown. "I was doing some scouting on my own, checking for more Wizarding communities for the Dark Lord to exploit. But it looks like you beat me to it. Find anything good?"

"No," Draco shook his head, "I thought since we haven't looked here, there might be a few good witches or wizards here, but it turns out that this is a Muggle-only community. Nothing to report." He added, "Why was there a Dementor here, by the way?"

"It's with me, or at least it was, until you drove it away with that odd Patronus of yours. What was it? It almost looked like there were two of them…" Crabbe raised an accusing eyebrow at him.

"That Dementor was attacking me as though I was a common blood traitor! What was I supposed to do, let it destroy me?" Draco retorted.

"I suppose not," he shrugged, "But where did that second Patronus come from, Malfoy?"

"I was the only one to cast one, you fool. You must be completely blind to have seen two when mine was the only one cast for miles in any direction!" He scoffed, and the portly Crabbe flushed with defensiveness.

"I am not blind. I thought your Patronus was a dragon, but I could've sworn I saw something else…"

"Of course my Patronus is a dragon. Well, whatever you saw, it's long gone now, along with that blasted Dementor. The Dark Lord will not be happy to learn that you lost one." Draco sneered, and Crabbe started to look nervous. "If I were you, I'd go and find it before you return to Malfoy Manor looking all guilty, and let slip you accidentally released one of the Dark Lord's monsters without his permission."

Crabbe nodded, worried, "Fine, but you'd better not tell anyone I was here, then." He paused, "Weren't you supposed to be in the Forbidden Forest 'training' today?"

"I was, but I was nearly killed by centaurs so I left. I found an empty forest a few miles from here to use, and with my spare time checked out this little town. Pretty boring day, actually. I rather wish I'd gone on that scouting trip with the other Death Eaters. Now get out of my sight before I report your absence to the Dark Lord." Draco explained easily.

Crabbe didn't think twice about doubting his story, afraid for his own punishment if he didn't retrieve the Dementor. "Later, Malfoy. Remember, you didn't see me here."

"Nor I here, Crabbe!" he called after him, and with a mental incantation, he cleared the fog caused by the Dementor, the summer night warming up once again. He beckoned for Charlotte, who came slowly to his side. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, I suppose," she took a deep breath, "So, that was Crabbe? Is he not a Death Eater yet?"

"No, but the Dark Lord says he may induct him in a matter of days. The dolt was trying to earn some extra approval from the Dark Lord, to ensure his place at his side," Draco sighed, focusing his attention on Charlotte. "Are you sure you are all right? You're still shaking."

"What he said—is the Dark Lord looking for more places to exploit? And would he ever come here?" Charlotte's voice shook slightly with worry.

"He is, but I have made sure he thinks that there is nothing but boring Muggles here, and your family is safe. Don't worry," Draco assured her. He sighed, "I hate seeing you this worried, and I don't want to leave you on this note."

"Does that mean you have to leave now?" her voice was nearly back to normal, but she sounded disheartened.

"Yeah, I suppose that's my cue to go. I want to beat Crabbe home, though it looks like he'll be out for a while. Dementors are rather elusive, and especially so when frightened by strong Patronuses, like yours," he smiled at her.

"Yours was pretty impressive, too, Draco. Don't underestimate your ability." Charlotte came closer to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "I know I never do."

"Oh really?" he gently put his arms around her waist, holding her.

She nodded, tilting her head slightly. "I always brag to my Muggle girlfriends about you, and they're all jealous. They wish they had someone as talented and devilishly handsome as you."

He laughed, "Then I'm honored to call you my own, Miss LaRocque." Draco leaned forward, and his lips brushed Charlotte's lightly. The kiss deepened, and Draco pulled Charlotte right up against him.

The kiss soon ended, and Charlotte whispered, "I'm glad I got to see you today, Draco. I've really missed you."

"So have I. But I'll see you again soon, I promise." He released her and glanced around to make sure that no one would see him Disapparate. As he was about to leave, Charlotte quickly put something in his hand. Draco frowned and glanced at her, confused.

"I made it myself," Charlotte said, sheepishly. "I've been meaning to give it to you all day, and I almost backed out. It's just a little something, not that extravagant."

Draco examined it, murmuring "_Lumos_" so he could see more easily. In his hand was a wristband a few inches wide but only a few millimeters thick. It was green, with a black border all along it on the top and bottom. Intricate silver and black shapes were sewn into the green background so that they stood out around the entire wristband. The shapes were in the form of alternating horses and dragons, like that of his Patronus. They glinted in the light, but only subtly. He marveled at it, amazed at the effort that must have gone into it.

"You don't have to wear it if it's not your style, I just thought… you might like it. Something to keep me in your thoughts, you know?" Charlotte fidgeted, nervous about his reaction.

Draco put it on his right wrist, and fastened it with his wand. "Of course I'll wear it, so you'll always be with me. Did you make this by hand?"

She nodded, "For the most part. I used some magic to make sure it shone just right, and for the finishing touches, but it did turn out beautifully, didn't it? Good night, and until we meet again, my dear Draco!" She smiled, and waved as she turned to head back home.

When Draco returned to Malfoy Manor, he didn't even register the Dark Lord's anger at a not very successful day. Whenever he glanced at his right wrist, he had to work to keep himself from smiling. He went through all of the motions of being a subordinate Death Eater, but his mind was far away, in the arms of a certain Animagus girl.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Draco stared absently out the window at the passing countryside, listening to the smooth movement of the Hogwarts Express over the tracks. He was pleased to be back on the train to Hogwarts, now that the long summer was over. Perhaps it was the fact that being at school meant that he wouldn't have to be among all the insanity of his home-turned-Death Eater hideout. The more likely reason, however, may have had to do with the lovely, kind-hearted girl who sat beside him, holding his hand discreetly. With a light squeeze of his hand, he was drawn out of his reverie. He turned to Charlotte, and smiled easily at her. Whenever someone passed the booth where they sat, he released her hand smoothly as she paged through the book she had in her lap, and perused it, asking him questions and glancing absently out the window.

When Draco's friend, Blaise Zabini, entered, a nod from Draco told Charlotte it was time to play her part of the annoyed tutor. She smirked, and spoke, acting exasperated, "I can't deal with this right now, you aren't focusing!" she shoved a textbook from her lap onto the bench near her, stood up purposefully, and gracefully avoided the dark-skinned boy as he made to sit on the opposite bench.

Following her with slightly hungry eyes, Blaise remarked absently, "How can you bear to sit here and work on schoolwork even before school starts? Classes don't even start for a few days, and you're looking at your textbooks!"

"I am not doing schoolwork, Blaise. My tutor is simply seeing what I've retained over the summer," Draco rolled his eyes, "Tedious, I know, but apparently it's necessary after months without school."

"Well, I wouldn't mind it. I'm not going to lie, Malfoy, you've got quite the fox as a tutor. If I were you…" The boy shook his head, and Draco snorted, annoyed.

When Blaise turned back to him, a questioning look on his face, Draco retorted, "Is that so? I wouldn't know, as I can't see past her annoying criticisms of my work—how I could improve, what I miss on tests, and all that rubbish. As much as it helps me, I hate it sometimes."

"That's too bad. You know, if she were _my_ tutor …" he bit his lip slightly, glancing suggestively in the direction in which Charlotte had gone.

"Why are you even here, Blaise?" Draco asked, annoyed. He had to try hard to hide his bristling temper at his friend's longing after Charlotte. She was his, and there was no way he'd let Blaise Zabini ever get a hold of her. He covered his irritation with a slightly repulsed look.

When he turned back and saw Draco looking at him as if he were crazy, Blaise shook his head and continued, "I've been meaning to ask you, is it true that you're involved with a certain dark wizard… but that you're still attending Hogwarts?"

"Why? What have you heard?" Draco narrowed his eyes, suspicious. His hand was on his wand, ready to act if necessary. "Who's asking, and who are you going to tell?"

"Nobody! It's just me, and the Dark Lord recruited my uncle just last month. I feel the same way that you all do, about filthy Mudbloods and blood traitors," Blaise spoke quickly and honestly, and Draco sighed in relief that he hadn't been exposed.

Lifting his sleeve slightly, he showed the boy his Dark Mark, and smiled as his friend's eyes widened in awe. Draco pulled his sleeve down, "Yes, it's true that I'm a follower of You-Know-Who. But, as a student, I'm meant to maintain my studies as well as my duties to the Dark Lord. I'll be gone a lot on 'excused absences' when my services are required, whenever that will be. But you mustn't let slip that you know this, it might put you and me in serious danger."

"Of course," Blaise nodded, "I've been meaning to try becoming a part of your group. Make a Death Eater of myself."

Draco hesitated at the thought of getting Blaise involved, as little as he cared about the boy, so he spoke cautiously, "I wouldn't be so hasty, it's a dangerous path, and one that takes time. If you value your life as it is, remaining a quiet follower is the best choice for you for now. In the future, however, when the Dark Lord is more receptive to younger followers, then will be your time to shine."

Blaise nodded, agreeing, and, seeing Charlotte was on her way back to where they sat, he made to stand, giving her room to enter. "Thank you for your advice, Malfoy, I'll keep it in mind."

Charlotte passed him as she sat on the bench across from Draco in their booth. When Blaise shot her a crooked smile, she raised an eyebrow at him, quickly taking in his expression, and rolled her eyes, as if to say, _"There is no way in Heaven or Hell that someone like you would ever have a chance with me"._ She sat down, and reopened a textbook she'd set down, making to quiz Draco on Herbology. She spoke pleasantly, "Ready to go at it again, Draco?"

"See you later, Malfoy," Blaise said, and, nodding to Charlotte, "Miss LaRocque." He flashed her a saccharine smile as he left, glancing back at Draco once more before returning from whence he came.

"What was that about?" Charlotte asked, curious and a little put off.

Draco sighed, "Blaise was asking about how to become a Death Eater. He knows I'm one, and asked my advice. Oh, and he's apparently thinking about making a move on you. He thinks you're rather attractive, I believe his exact word for you was 'a fox'."

"Oh? Does he know that my boyfriend would beat him senseless in a Wizard's duel if he tried anything?" Charlotte asked absently.

"I don't think he knows that you have a boyfriend, or that your beau is of such a high magical ability. I told him I thought you were revolting, in fact." Draco teased.

"And that's what I tell my friends here, too. That you're the most repulsive person I've ever met, and I don't know how or why I put up with you."

"What about me? I don't think I'm half as bad as you are," Draco looked about cautiously, and found no one was moving about the hallway, "You're absolutely wretched."

"Oh, shut up, Draco," she shifted onto the bench next to him, flashing him a sweet smile.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, and squeezed her mischievously as he leaned forward. Grinning, she met him halfway for a quick kiss. Upon ending the kiss, Draco murmured, "Don't worry about Blaise, Charlotte, I would never let you associate yourself with the likes of him. You're too sophisticated to go out with someone of _his_ level."

"And what level is that, may I ask? I come from a pretty humble home, you know."

"The level of which I speak concerns intellect and prestige. You deserve someone with superiority in both, such as myself! And the fact that I'm rather nice to look at gives me a comfortable advantage." He inclined his head, putting on his arrogant façade.

Charlotte laughed to herself, "All right, if you say so. Now, back to your studies, I suppose?" She went back to the bench across from him, so as not to give any clues that she was anything more to Draco than just a tutor. Soon, when they were taking a break, Charlotte brought up another matter. "Draco, I haven't seen Hermione at all on the train today," she looked at the passing landscape, curious.

"Why would I care about where Granger is?" He leaned back, closing his eyes, tired. His tone was aloof, detached.

She frowned, "I don't know why you'd care, but I'm worried about my friend. She's usually with Ron and Harry, but they're gone, too…"

"Ha! That coward Potter finally decided not to show his face at Hogwarts. Smart boy, especially with all the Death Eaters around, waiting to turn him in to the Dark Lord."

"What?" Charlotte spun her head to face him, "What do you mean, 'all the Death Eaters around'?"

His shoulders slumped as the danger she was in occurred to him. He rubbed his eyes at his oversight, as he so often forgot that she was a Mudblood: a prime target for Death Eaters. "Okay, here's what I know. The Carrow siblings are in charge of discipline, and they like it a little too much, so stay out of their way. There are a few more Death Eaters in other staff positions as well."

Charlotte nodded tentatively, "What about the headmaster?"

"Snape has been appointed as Hogwarts Headmaster."

Charlotte was quiet for a few moments, then spoke quietly, "I've always trusted Snape, and he seemed to like me even if I am a… Muggle-born witch. I had no idea he was a Death Eater until last year. Where does that leave us? Am I safe at school?"

He could tell that she was genuinely worried, and longed to take her hand, "He helped me to get away, and watched over me last year, on account of my mother and beyond. So, he must care a little about my well being; I'll make sure he looks out for you, especially when I'm gone."

"When you're gone?" she inquired, her worry not getting any better.

He looked at her apologetically, "I'm going to have to leave every so often to fulfill my duties as a Death Eater, whatever they may be. But I'll make sure you are as safe as possible, I promise."

She nodded vaguely, looking out the window, troubled.

* * *

When they arrived at Hogwarts, Draco pulled Charlotte aside for a moment, out of sight, on their way to the Great Hall for the annual "Welcome to the New School Year" feast. He whispered honestly to her, "Charlotte, I promise you, I'll make sure you're kept safe. I love you, and I can't bear to let anything happen to you. If you're ever hurt, I'll never forgive myself…"

"Thank you, Draco," she gently touched the side of his face, "You are ever so considerate. Now, let's go to the Great Hall." She smiled, though only briefly, and went to her house table, to sit with her friends.

Draco sat at the Slytherin table, and listened to what the new headmaster, Severus Snape, had to say.

The tall, menacing-looking professor took the podium with great decorum, and cleared his throat, silencing the entire hall. He then spoke, with a deep and commanding voice:

"Greetings, students, and welcome to a new year here at Hogwarts. I am sure you are all aware of the untimely death of the previous headmaster, the revered Albus Dumbledore, during an attack on the school only last spring. I take his place with the utmost humility, and hope that I can fill his position honorably, and prove to be a worthy headmaster to this wonderful school. I would like to introduce a few new staff members here at Hogwarts…" Snape went on to introduce the Carrows and a few other new people on the Hogwarts scene, which no one but the select few would know that they were in fact Death Eaters, only proving the Dark Lord's increasing hold on Hogwarts and the whole of the Wizarding community.

As Snape spoke, Draco let his mind wander, his gaze drifting about the room. He found where Charlotte sat and watched her fleetingly, discreetly. He saw she was listening to Snape closely, as if she hoped he genuinely cared about the school. He then turned his gaze to Snape, and narrowed his eyes. He resolved to talk to the new headmaster as soon as he could about this pressing matter.

As the feast drew to a close, and Snape left the hall out the staff door, Draco sprung into action. He left the Great Hall, and caught up to the headmaster on his way up to his office.

"Snape," he panted, demandingly.

"What is it, Malfoy?" Snape replied coolly, as he kept walking.

"I need to ask a favor of you."

"Do you now? What do you want, are you folding under the stress already, before lessons even begin? Or do you want me to tell you that your classes are optional, due to 'extraneous circumstances'?" The headmaster sneered at the boy.

Draco frowned, "No, I want you to ensure the safety of Miss LaRocque."

"Now, why would I want to do that?"

"Because she's in danger with all of these Death Eaters around."

"Why do you care so highly for her safety, Malfoy?"

"She's… important to me, Snape, and I don't want her to get hurt."

"Is that so? What exactly is she to you?" he asked, skeptical, testing whether he truly cared about her.

Draco finally confided in the headmaster, "Fine. Look, you can't tell anyone, but Charlotte and I… we're together. I lo… I mean, I really care about her, and keeping her safe is one of my highest priorities. Wouldn't you want that for someone you cared about?"

Snape didn't reply, and Draco pressed on.

"Haven't you ever cared so much about someone that you felt you would never forgive yourself if something happened to them? You honestly have never felt that way?" he frowned, accusingly. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this! It's not like you care about me or Charlotte, or anyone, I shouldn't have even—"

"Quiet, boy! Don't insult me. I'm not in any position to protect you and your little…" he snapped, defensive. Snape trailed off, however, when he saw the sincerity in Draco's determined expression. The headmaster slowed his brisk walk, suddenly remembering many years back, a quick reminder of how he'd once, no—always felt, about a certain someone, and how devastating the loss of that person was to him, even if she never really was his at all. As much as he hated to admit it, he wanted to help Malfoy and save him from all of that pain. "Fine. What is it you propose we to do, then?"

"I want her record, at least that the staff has access to, rewritten so it says that she's a Pure-Blood witch, and I want you keep an eye on her, especially when I'm gone on Death Eater business, and to make sure that she's kept far away from the Carrows when they go on their characteristic rampages," Draco explained. "That should be a good place to start. Can you do that?"

Snape nodded solemnly, and Draco thanked him, regaining his aloof façade, hiding his immense relief that the headmaster was going to watch over Charlotte. He walked purposefully back to the Great Hall, where students were still mulling about, talking about all of the new changes to Hogwarts, wondering what else was in store. As he overheard some conversations, he was pleased to note that nobody suspected anything of the new staff members in terms of their Death Eater status. They were simply calling them odd and almost frightening in their countenance.

He caught Charlotte's eye from a distance, and indicated very subtly to her to meet him outside. She inclined her head in understanding, and bid her friends goodbye as she turned to leave the Hall.

Draco stood outside the Great Hall, pacing, but more at ease, and when Charlotte came to his side, she took his hand, "What is it? Is everything all right?"

Pleased, Draco replied, "I spoke with Snape only moments ago, and he agreed to help ensure your safety here at Hogwarts, he gave me his word."

"Oh, Draco, that's wonderful!" She gave him a quick hug, backing off promptly. Their façade needed to be upheld, and tutors did not usually hug their students so affectionately. Something had her in a good mood and this only added to it, and she was filled with an almost tangible energy.

"How are you feeling, Charlotte? You look tired. All the excitement of a new year appears to have worn you out!" Draco feigned concern, and put a hand on her forehead, haphazardly, as if he knew what to do when looking for a fever.

She laughed, "I'm just fine, Draco, and that is _not_ how you check for a temperature. Want to go for a run? It's not too late yet, and the blasted Carrows only just got their supper, they won't be finished for ages."

Draco nodded, then scrunched his eyebrows, "Wait, you don't mean as people, do you?"

She shook her head, "Come on! There are saddles that fit me wonderfully that Hagrid lets me use in the thestral stables, so you don't have to ride bareback. I assume that it's an uncomfortable arrangement…"

Draco sighed and rolled his eyes, as once she had her mind set on an idea, there wasn't any stopping her. He finally replied, when it looked as if she could no longer contain herself, "All right, let's go for a ride." At that, Charlotte nearly trotted ahead of him, and the moment she was outside, he heard a whinny. He smiled, she was glad to be back at Hogwarts, and he was glad to be here with her, as well.

* * *

After the ride, as Draco led her back to the stable by her reins, Charlotte began to get a little uneasy. "What is it, love?" Draco asked, quietly, and looked around. Approaching him was an irritable Amycus Carrow. Draco's temper threatened to flare up, but he simply called out dispassionately, "What brings you outside on this lovely evening, Amycus? Don't you prefer the dark, dank indoors, with all of the cockroaches?"

The ugly little man scrunched up his face, but focused on the matter at hand, "I should be asking you the same question, little Malfoy. Why are you out here? It's getting dark, and…"

"But it's nowhere near curfew, and I decided to try out one of Hogwarts' new Abraxan horses. We didn't fly today, she's still too young, but she may be of use to the Dark Lord once she's of age. Hagrid told me she's been itching for a ride." Charlotte's ears twitched back and forth agitatedly, as she tried not to break out of Draco's grasp and leave this horrid man's presence. Draco could sense her anxiety, and continued, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to put her back before curfew, and I won't make it in time if you hold me up."

Shifting his weight awkwardly, Amycus nodded, and started to say something. When the big horse before him snorted loudly, he jumped, and turned back to the castle, walking quickly to the entrance.

Draco laughed and murmured to Charlotte-horse, "That was amusing, did you do that on purpose?" When she nuzzled him and pretended to nibble in his hair, he pushed her head away, "All right, all right. I'm just surprised he came out here, he hates being outside alone."

When they reached the stable, she transfigured back, and Charlotte helped Draco to put the saddle and bridle away. She kept complaining that the bit was a little painful, but that it was all part of being a horse, shrugging it off.

They snuck in right before curfew, and as they made their way to Ravenclaw, Charlotte kept sneaking glances at Draco.

He noticed, and asked her, "What are you looking at?"

"Are you wearing my wristband?"

"Yes, I almost never take it off. Why?"

"Have you figured out anything odd or magical about it?"

"No… why? Should I have?" he was confused.

She smiled, and said, "Well, right before you go to sleep, try something for me. I want you to focus on thinking happy thoughts about you and me, and then take a look at the wristband. If I'm correct, you'll see something wonderful."

She then looked over both of her shoulders to ensure no one was within sight, and kissed Draco right on the mouth. He was surprised, but readily kissed her back. When she ended the kiss, she murmured, "Think about that, for example. Good night, Draco."

She left without another word, and Draco watched her go. He went to Slytherin dormitory, prepared for bed, and before he got into bed, he looked out the window, lifted his right wrist so he could see Charlotte's wristband, and focused on a pleasant memory of him and Charlotte: their kiss only moments ago, their playful banter on the Howgarts Express, and…

As his mind worked, he noticed something strange going on with his wristband. The little dragon and horse shapes were moving: the horses reared and bucked, shaking their thread-made manes and pawing the ground, while the dragons flapped their wings and breathed black fire, snapping their jaws and reaching for something with their foreclaws. Draco stared in amazement, that Charlotte could craft something so intricate by hand and by magic.

His thoughts were interrupted, "Malfoy, what are you looking at? Something in the forest?"

Draco turned, only to find Gregory Goyle standing behind him, glancing towards the window, curious. "Oh, uh… yeah, thought I saw something odd at the edges, but it retreated back into the forest moments after. Looked like some kind of troll."

"Makes sense. I heard there are some strange things in the Forbidden Forest, you couldn't pay me to go in there," he laughed to himself, and went back to his bed.

Draco had not entirely lost his pleasant train of thought, so when he glanced back at his wrist, the horses and dragons still shifted slightly. _Perhaps this year won't be too bad, after all,_ he thought as he got into bed,_ I've got Charlotte, and I doubt the Dark Lord will need me very often._ He was oh-so-unaware of the hardship and danger that this year would bring to Charlotte, and to him.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

"You all right, there, Malfoy? That looked like quite a hit!"

Suppressing a cry of pain, Draco spat, "Shut up, Goyle! I'm fine. Just a nick, that's all. Will you focus on your own injuries?" Draco went back to his opponent, ignored the stabbing pain in his right leg, and won the duel. The class finally ended, and he continued onto his next class, trying to ignore the shooting pains up and down his wounded leg.

Crabbe and Goyle caught up with him, "It looks like you're losing your edge, Malfoy," one sneered, and the other added, "What happened back there, unable to focus on a silly little duel?"

Draco turned on them, "If you're just going to rag on me, why are you here? I didn't see you two doing any better in your duels today. Crabbe, you couldn't block a simple jelly legs jinx, and Goyle, your Confundus charm rebounded. Leave me alone, I have another class in a few minutes."

As he started off again, Crabbe called, taunting, "Oh yeah, now I remember what I was going to say. It's about that tutor of yours. If she's a Mudblood, why are you still wasting your time getting help from her?"

"Yeah," Goyle nodded, "We even found her file and everything to prove it last year! Don't you detest all Mudbloods? Or are you turning soft?"

Anger swelled up inside of Draco, but he laughed deviously instead, "Me, growing soft? Don't you recall all I've done for the Dark Lord thus far? Don't even suggest such a thing of me. And are you sure you read her file right? Or even picked the right one when you rifled through the school records?"

"Uh, yeah, pretty sure…"

"Then go find it again and prove to me that you didn't misread it. Charlotte LaRocque is as Pureblooded as you or me. Now let me alone, imbeciles." Draco tossed his head, as he left them, confused. He heard the two bumbling boys head hurriedly for the records room and wondered what they'd think when they saw her impeccably altered file.

That night, as Draco headed for the study, he searched discreetly for Charlotte. He saw her coming down the hall, and his dark mood lifted at the sight of her. She flashed him a quick, subtle smile, and he couldn't help but smile back faintly as he approached. Draco still marveled at what even the slightest glance from Charlotte did to his heart rate.

He desperately wanted to quicken his pace, but his throbbing leg wouldn't let him. As she usually did, Charlotte continued her conversation as she passed Draco in the crowd of the hallway, and as he listened, he heard her bid her companions farewell, and a few moments later, she was at Draco's side.

"Good evening," she said, to which Draco nodded curtly, in an attempt to keep their familiarity a mystery to those around them.

"I have some homework that needs looking over tonight, I hope you have a good amount of time to spare," Draco spoke, aloof. Charlotte nodded pleasantly. As they walked, Charlotte glanced at his feet more than once, furrowing her brow.

"Draco," Charlotte began, tilting her head, "Why are you limping?"

"What? Oh, I'm not limping." He tried his best to walk normally, without wincing as he did so.

They kept walking, and soon Charlotte tried again, "Yes, you are. You're favoring your left leg. Are you all right?"

He exhaled loudly, irritated, "I'm fine, Charlotte. I must have simply twisted it on the way to a class earlier. It's nothing."

Charlotte rolled her eyes, but said nothing until they reached the seclusion of her study. While he laid out his books on one of the desks, Charlotte noticed him carefully shifting so his weight was not on his right leg.

"All right, Draco. What's wrong?"

Not looking at her, he replied, "I told you, it isn't anything, just a twisted ankle or something."

"I don't think you're being completely honest. Something happened, and you're not telling me." She approached him, and he backed away. She crossed her arms, confused.

He was embarrassed to admit what had happened that afternoon.

"Just tell me, I don't care if it's something stupid." When he didn't budge, she sighed, "At least let me see it." Draco reluctantly sat down on a sofa, and slowly rolled up his pant leg.

Charlotte gasped when she saw the wound. "Oh, Draco! You're bleeding!" He looked at his leg, and saw a big cut down the length of his lower leg. Draco glanced at Charlotte, who looked from the cut to his face, concern coloring her features, "What happened? It looks like it really hurts."

Draco's closed-off expression softened, and he admitted, "In Dueling Club today, I was paired against some stupid boy—someone I'd never dueled with before, mind you—and I let a curse slip past my defenses." He broke from her gaze and looked at his hands, "As a wizard who is supposed to be well versed in Dark Magic, and a Death Eater, no less, such an indiscretion is unacceptable. One more disgrace to add to the list for my parents, and I must look like a weak little squib to you."

Charlotte shook her head, sympathetic. Draco worried so much about how he appeared to others. She stood on her knees and reached for his hand. He looked back at her again, finding the warmth of her hand in his soothing.

"You are not weak, Draco," she said plainly, looking at Draco's silver eyes. She finally continued, reassuring him, "And you don't have to worry about looking or feeling weak in front of me. I'm here to help you through those tough times, and make you realize how strong you really are. Now, let me fix up your leg, then we can get on with schoolwork, boring as it may be." She winked, and Draco cracked a halfhearted smile.

Charlotte conjured some supplies from the Hospital Wing and began tending to his leg. While she dressed his wound, she spoke pleasantly, distracting him from the pain he might be feeling from the curse or the disinfectant. She smiled as Draco bragged about how even though he was hit by a curse, he came right back and knocked his opponent flat on the ground, winning the duel by a large margin. Soon, she had bandaged his leg and taken a good amount of the pain away.

She finished fastening the bandages and added, "There, all finished. How does that feel?"

Draco sighed, "You are a godsend, Charlotte. I don't know what I would do without you, my dear."

She blushed, and said sheepishly, "Oh, it's nothing. I'm just glad to help you feel better. Shall we look at that Herbology homework you were struggling with? Or your Potions?"

"Sure," he nodded, feeling much more confident about his abilities. He really was thankful for Charlotte, and he couldn't possibly say how much she meant to him.

* * *

Unfortunately for Draco, he barely got to see Charlotte during those first several weeks at Hogwarts. First of all, both of their schedules clashed in the most annoying ways and the only classes they had together were Potions and Transfiguration, and their "career path" course work separated them or put them in different sections of their classes. And Draco was called away more than he would have liked, especially on the weekends.

The only time they had together was their nightly study time in Charlotte's secret hideout. That's what it had become, a hideout for them so that they could enjoy each other's company and so that Draco could get the help with his homework that he needed (or rather, wanted) from Charlotte.

Second of all, their clandestine meetings and conversations in the hallways had become nearly impossible, what with heightened security and Death Eaters lurking about in every corridor. He couldn't risk letting other Death Eaters know that he had feelings for Charlotte, much less the fact that they were together and had been for nearly a year. Exposing such an important secret could possibly put them both in grave danger. As he walked from class to class, Draco could sense the Death Eaters' presence when other students couldn't, and found it rather disturbing that they were giving this much attention to a group of boring Wizarding students. It was then that he remembered that the Dark Lord had hundreds, if not thousands of Death Eaters to spare, what's a few to stake out a school and monitor possible future followers?

With this heightened surveillance, the most Draco could spare when he passed Charlotte in the hallways or in a deserted corridor was a small smile and incline of his head. She returned this with a smile and often a wink or other amusing gesture, just to make him smile even bigger. Charlotte knew that things between them would be more secretive, and she was fine with it, trusting Draco and supporting him in every way that she could. She missed spending time with him, and Draco was aware that she missed him, too, especially when he was called away by the Dark Lord. She feared for his safety each and every time he left, but, without fail, he returned to Hogwarts days later, perhaps injured, but all in one piece.

Often when he'd return, Draco sought out Charlotte's embrace, to cry on her shoulder or just to calm himself down, sometimes telling her what had happened, and other times not able to disclose the horrors he had witnessed. No matter the situation, she was there for him, to listen to his rants and stories, to tend to his wounds, or simply to soothe and reassure him that she wasn't going anywhere and that everything was all right.

Draco loved having Charlotte there, by his side and helping him through his hard times, but he longed to hold her like he had so many times the previous summer, to hold her for no reason at all but to know she was there, and that she was his; to simply enjoy the feel of her presence without any stresses or worries. And although he knew Charlotte respected the new restrictions on their relationship, he wondered if she felt the same way.

* * *

One evening, a day after Draco returned from one of his three-day-long absences, the headmaster asked for their attention pertaining to a certain new and important matter at hand. Alecto, the female Carrow sibling, took Snape's place at the podium and spoke loudly.

"I'm sure you're all aware that the Dueling Club has restarted, and thanks to recommendations by the headmaster, all students, of a certain age, will be required to take part in this. Dueling is a necessary skill, for such abilities are needed in our ever-changing world. It's getting to be a darker place, and the knowledge and expertise of certain defensive and offensive enchantments are important assets if one were faced with, say, an enemy of Hogwarts, or… a Dark wizard or witch…" she trailed off, ominously.

A collective intake of breath and low mutterings spread through the hall, students gossiping about what they heard, or what they feared would happen if such a thing occurred in Hogwarts.

Alecto added, "Only students in their fifth year or above may participate, but younger volunteers would be very much appreciated and put to good use…"

At this, Draco became a little incensed. He glanced over at Charlotte, and saw she looked a little worried. She had told him before that she was glad she wasn't a part of that aspect of the Wizarding world. She often shuddered at the cruelty he described in his accounts of duels he had participated in or seen. The idea that Charlotte might be forced to partake in a duel, in which a curse could hurt her, incapacitate her, cause her to suffer in any way… it was something that made Draco's blood boil. He couldn't bear to imagine his dear Charlotte in pain, and desperately hoped his fears would be unfounded.

He sought her out after dinner, and noticed her mind was working overtime, and she was obviously troubled. "How're you doing? Worried at all?" Draco asked, knowing that she wouldn't respond favorably. Charlotte simply shrugged, not wanting her response to be overheard. They went to her study so they could talk more privately.

When Draco shut and locked the door, he turned to find her sitting down, her head in her hands. He was about to try and comfort her, when she started, "Why would Snape make a suggestion like that? Doesn't he know that many students, me included, have never done combat with magic? What if something happens to students in this 'club'? If someone gets hurt…" She trailed off.

He sighed and leaned against the door, "I doubt it was merely Snape's idea. The Carrows and the other Death Eaters probably conspired to make fighters to use if an uprising came about."

"An uprising?" she asked him, concerned.

He shrugged, "I don't know, I'm just brainstorming. How should I know what the Dark Lord's ultimate plan is?" Draco spoke as if he didn't know the Dark Lord's strategy, when in fact he was a part of it, no matter how reluctant of a participant he may be. Wanting to soothe her worrying, he sat next to her and spoke openly, "I know you don't want to duel, Charlotte, but if we try to get out of it, it'll look suspicious to the Carrows and other Death Eaters. I don't want you in any more danger."

She nodded, regretful, "I know."

"And," Draco added, a thought occurring to him, "Seeing as you're dating me, you may eventually be forced to use the skills you learn. Even if it is Dark Magic, it might help keep you safe, especially in the treacherous world I'm involved with."

"That's true," she sighed, and smiled faintly, "At least I'll have you there to watch over me!"

"You can bet on that!" he replied proudly, wrapping his arm possessively around her waist. "Now, do you want me to teach you a few tricks of the trade before your first wizard's duel tomorrow?" Unable to resist his eager charm, Charlotte consented, hoping it would help her feel more prepared for the coming challenges.

* * *

The next day, as Draco had predicted, was the first day of the student body-wide Dueling Club. Charlotte had at least some grasp on a few defensive spells, and a couple offensive ones, and Draco was never far away, keeping a close eye on his filly. As he had hoped, they started out doing spells on practice dummies that were enchanted, and repelled spells that were poorly executed.

Charlotte did fine, however, and didn't get hurt once. She was pleased at that day's outcome, and the next few days went smoothly as well, since Draco was her private instructor in dueling. She thought it rather amusing that in this instance he was the tutor and she the student.

Draco stood behind her one night, guiding her wand arm as she had done so many times for him last year and even this year. He guided it in an intricate pattern and told her the incantation. She tried it out by herself on a vase she had conjured and replicated with the Geminio spell, and a bundle of ropes bound it tightly.

"There! That's the Incarcerous spell. I told you it wasn't that hard," he was proud of her, and proud of his teaching abilities. "Now, let me show you the Stunning Charm…" He took his position behind her again, taking her hand in his, and she started to laugh. He backed up and looked at her, confused. "What is it? Did I say something wrong?"

"No, of course not! It's just…" she snickered, "This feels odd, with you the teacher, guiding my actions. Usually I'm the one giving directions."

"Well, I do happen to be an expert when it comes to dueling and to Dark Magic, when it comes to that point of course," Draco straightened his shirt, preening. He went back to explaining to her another spell, when she started to laugh again. Draco glared at Charlotte, and she immediately sobered up, albeit only momentarily. "What is wrong?"

Charlotte merely shook her head, "Nothing." In response to his imploring, moderately irritated look, she explained, "I just love how you're so talented at this deeply complex Dark Magic, but when it comes to something simple like changing the shape of something to stone, you make it explode."

"Hey now," Draco came back, "I'm getting better! It's not my fault I'm not a genius at some kinds of magic. I'm just not interested in it, why should I care about changing the physical form of something, anyway?"

"Who knows? Maybe you'll meet a gorgon someday, and instead of enchanting a mirror to turn her to stone, you'll cause her to self-destruct!" she teased.

"Is that so? All right, that's enough dueling practice for one day," he stood, straightening his shirt and touching up his impeccably styled hair. "And for good measure…" he reached gingerly around her and snatched her wand, turning it over in his hands.

"Now wait a minute, Draco! That's not fair," she put her hands on her hips.

As he looked it over, Draco mused, "A lovely wand, my dear; it's no wonder you do such wonderful magic with it. Now, back to whatever homework we were working on…" He made to place it her wand his inside coat pocket, but Charlotte lunged for it. Expecting this, Draco shifted just out of her path, keeping the wand just out of her reach.

Charlotte sighed, impatient, "Draco, I need my wand. May I have it back?"

"No, unfortunately, you may not." He said, aloof. "This is simply too much fun, what with you getting all frustrated. It's rather adorable, actually," a mischievous smile played at the corners of his mouth.

Sighing, Charlotte acted as though she had finally given up the chase. When Draco was distracted with a textbook near him, however, she came up from behind him and leaped for her wand. With one smooth movement, Draco dodged her attempted capture and trapped Charlotte in one of his arms. His free hand twirled both his and her wands triumphantly. It was a very familiar embrace, one that caused them to smile as the recalled the previous year, and a certain diverting quill.

"Once again," he crowed calmly, "I am the winner of this game of ours. A few times we have played, and each time I have emerged victorious. I find this a rather diverting and enjoyable game, my dear."

Charlotte laughed to herself, "You would. Is there any way I can win the favor of my adversary, enough to earn back my wand?"

"Perhaps…" he turned her around so that she was facing him, a sly look on his face. "There might be something that might sway my judgment."

In response, she leaned forward ever so slightly, her eyes falling shut. She felt Draco's arms loosen around her waist, and she smiled to herself. Charlotte's lips nearly brushed his, when she all of a sudden sighed, and backed up out of his embrace, "You know what? I'm just not feeling it right now."

Draco looked after her, confused, if not the least bit hurt. "What? What do you mean, 'not feeling it'? We barely get any time to see each other, and the one time a moment comes up, you aren't up for it?"

Feeling bad for hurting his ego, she took his hand and reassured him, "Of course I am, dear. I just wanted to show you…" she held up Draco's wand in her other hand, triumphant, "...that I can be victorious as well!"

Sensing defeat, he inquired, "Am I ever going to get that back, then, Charlotte?"

Charlotte shrugged, then slowly set the wand down, much to Draco's curiosity, who followed suit. "Ah, forget the blasted wands!" She took a gentle hold of his shirt, and pulled him in for a kiss. Draco's eyes widened in surprise at her fervor, but he soon smiled and relaxed into the kiss, wrapping his arms tightly about her.

When he broke the kiss, Draco murmured in Charlotte's ear, "Maybe Blaise was right, you are quite a sly little fox." He sat down with her on an uncluttered sofa, his arms still around her, and her arms still around his neck, playing with his hair.

"Then it looks like you've just snared yourself a vixen, Mr. Malfoy!" She snuggled in close to him, sighing contentedly.

"Perfect! I always knew I was an excellent hunter." He ran his fingers slowly through her soft, brown hair as she laughed at his little joke, kissed the top of her head, and held her close. He had to cherish this moment, who knew when they would have another one, when he'd be able to hold her this close again?


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

"You call that a curse? I've seen Squibs that could do it better."

"Try casting it at your opponent, not at yourself!"

A few Death Eaters barked commands and criticisms at students in the Dueling Club. It was as if they were training soldiers, rather than teaching skills for basic Wizard's Duels.

This is what Draco heard as he arrived, trying to enter quietly. He did not succeed to go unnoticed, as one of the instructors said, irritated, "You're late again, Malfoy."

"You should be happy that I'm here at all. This is a waste of my time, I can't believe I'm forced to come here," Draco retorted, and the Death Eater rolled his eyes at the boy. He was one of the students that excelled at dueling, thanks to his training as a Death Eater, so his insolence was tolerated. Draco found a place to duel, positioned in a convenient place so as to easily keep an eye on Charlotte, and make sure she was doing all right.

After Draco completed a few duels, he heard yelling coming from Charlotte's direction. Upon finishing yet another opponent with a Stunning Spell, Draco glanced over there, curious.

Charlotte was trying to cast some kind of spell, but it wasn't working. He didn't recognize it, but he knew it must be something she knew from a book she read, or something he'd mentioned and hadn't taught her yet.

The Death Eater snapped at her, "Again, stupid girl! That was far from acceptable."

Charlotte, hiding the hurt she felt, tried the spell again. But, the negative pressure she was under made it fail to work properly again.

Suddenly, the Death Eater paused, as if he were listening to someone speaking, but no one else could hear him. The Death Eater looked about him, suspicious of the source of the voice. Draco chuckled to himself, and was pleased at the outcome of his little Dark Magic trick. The menacing man stopped yelling at the pretty, brown-haired witch, and started to walk away, glancing back at her periodically. Sure enough, a few moments after he stopped criticizing her every move, she gathered her bearings, and cast a successful _Alarte_ _Ascendare_ spell on her opponent, an enchanted dueling dummy, sending it flying backwards. Surprised, he looked about once again for the source of the advice, narrowing his eyes.

"Sorry about that," Draco said as they walked to Potions together, after Dueling Club ended for the day, "I know that Finneas can be very harsh."

"Finneas?"

"The Death Eater that bothered you today in Dueling practice."

"Oh, yeah. I couldn't do that blasted spell right while he derided me. I was ever so glad when he stopped, though, and I showed him that I really am a skilled witch! Do you know what caused him to stop so suddenly?"

Draco nodded, "Looked to me like someone used Legilimency to shut him up." He hid a smile that threatened to cross his face.

"Is that so?" she sensed something was up, and added, "Was that someone… you?"

"Maybe," he shrugged, "but probably not. After all, the telepathic aspect of Legilimency is a difficult, dark skill, used only by Death Eaters and the like."

"You know you may have been putting yourself in danger of being detected and punished."

"Oh, I doubt it. I've gotten pretty good, and I've learned to protect myself from detection. I made it sound like it was a command from someone higher up, like Snape, or someone. So don't you worry about that, my dear," he assured her.

Charlotte took his hand and squeezed it quickly before releasing it, "Thanks for doing that, Draco."

"Of course. I couldn't allow him to continue treating you like that, so I acted. That's why I'm here: to protect you!" He smiled faintly. He knew this was just the beginning, things were going to get much worse, and what if they did when he was gone on an errand for the Dark Lord? He glanced at Charlotte, her easygoing manner making him all the more worried for her safety. She was so sweet; he didn't want her kind heart damaged.

* * *

Draco hadn't gone on an "excused absence" since the Dueling Club had gone school-wide, and one day while his Dark Mark burned, he sighed, dreading what the Dark Lord might have in mind.

"Charlotte?" he asked her that evening, in the study, his voice slightly wavering.

"What is it, Draco? Are you feeling all right, love?" she looked up at him, and when she saw his pale face had lost even more color, she went to his side.

He stated plainly, "I have to leave. Tonight. Another errand for the Dark Lord, apparently."

Her usually bright expression fell, replaced with one of concern.

Draco felt terrible for worrying her, "I wish I didn't have to go. But don't worry, I'll come back, safe and sound."

"I know. It's just... I'm always afraid you're going to get seriously hurt, or even killed, and…" she began rambling, worriedly.

Draco cut Charlotte off gently, replying, "I worry about you, too. I fear for your safety especially now that the Dueling Club is starting to get more intense. Soon, you may be forced to duel against another person, not just a training dummy." Alarm appeared in her eyes, and Draco put his hand on the side of her face, trying to comfort her, "Oh, Charlotte! Don't worry about it. If it does come to that, just remember all that I've taught you, and the fact that you're excellent at blocking and repelling spells is going to help you immensely. Just be cautious. Can you do that?"

Trying to appear strong, she smiled, nodding. She put her hand on his, and leaned into his touch. Looking into his silver eyes, she asked, "Do you have any idea how long you'll be gone?"

Draco sighed, shaking his head, "I wish I did. When I get back, will you be here?"

She nodded again, "I always am."

He flashed Charlotte a grateful smile. By the end of the evening, the painful prickling in his Dark Mark had become unbearable. He could practically hear the Dark Lord's voice beckoning him, and he knew he couldn't ignore the call anymore. Draco stood, stretched, and prepared to leave. "Walk with me to the edge of the school grounds?" Draco offered Charlotte his hand.

She took his hand and stood at his side, smiling sadly. Once they were far enough outside the Anti-Apparition barrier of Hogwarts, Draco took both of her hands in his.

"Be careful not to get into trouble while I'm gone."

"I will. I can take care of myself, you know. After all, I did so for sixteen years before I met you," she poked him in the chest, playfully.

"Indeed," he smirked at her attempt to keep him optimistic in this uncertain time. She always made sure he never saw if she was feeling down, and tried her best to keep him smiling, no matter how hard things might be. "I'll be back soon, I promise." He then Disapparated, not wanting to prolong the pain in his wrist any longer.

* * *

When Draco rematerialized, he found himself just outside a small village. He was among a group of about ten other Death Eaters, and glanced around, assessing his surroundings, searching for a clue as to why they were summoned here. His mother and father weren't present, but Draco thought little of it, they were probably still back at the Manor with other Death Eaters who hadn't been called. He assessed his surroundings, waiting for the Dark Lord to give them directions. He didn't have to wait long, as a clap of thunder announced his arrival. The group gathered in a circle around him, listening eagerly.

"Good evening, my loyal followers. I have brought you here because this is an untouched Wizarding community, in terms of my influence. There are many people residing here who would make excellent additions to my army, and I would like you to try and persuade them. You know the drill: ask them to join me, and if they resist, torture them until they comply or beg for death. Do what you must to earn their loyalty. No mercy, I don't care if they have families, all the more leverage to convince them." He sneered at the last bit.

Draco's heart sped up nervously, as he'd never been on a recruitment effort before. He didn't want to take part in this, much less alone. Glancing around, he tried to find someone he knew, that he could tag along with, or find a way to stay on the sidelines.

"Feeling a little lost, Malfoy?" a gruff-voiced Death Eater spoke unemotionally. Draco recognized him as Walden Macnair, a powerful dark wizard who was leading the effort to recruit giants to the Dark Lord's side in the developing war, "This is your first time on such a trip, isn't it?"

Draco nearly stuttered, but cleared his throat and answered evenly, "Perhaps. But I'm not worried in the least. Rather looking forward to it, actually. I'm just a little cold, is all."

"Sure you are. Looking for someone?"

"My father," he said the first person that came to mind. "Have you seen him?"

"Your father? Ha! That man is a mess, do you really think the Dark Lord would entrust him with this job? He doesn't even have a wand anymore, what help would he be?" Macnair laughed to himself. He added, "I'm surprised he summoned you tonight."

"Because I am a worthy Death Eater, same as you, idiot," he scoffed.

Macnair bristled at his impertinence, "You had better watch yourself, boy, your so-called worth to the Dark Lord will only last for so long."

"Whatever you say, Macnair."

Not wanting to argue with a moody seventeen-year-old boy and wasting precious time, he put his mask on and left Draco's presence. As he left, he called, "Remember, Malfoy, no mercy!"

Draco reluctantly attached himself to a Death Eater he'd never met before, who was cold-hearted and deeply involved with the Dark Lord's cause. Draco mostly watched him do his work, and said he would take his advice and use it in subsequent instances. Draco did torture a few people, under the forceful persuasion of his new, menacing Death Eater acquaintance, although it pained him inside to do so.

This recruitment effort lasted for a few nights, in different small towns in the area. They stayed in hotels or other residences by day, and by night, they stalked about for sympathizers and new followers. As the nights progressed, Draco had to torture more and more people who resisted. When they still wouldn't do as the two Death Eaters demanded, his acquaintance (whose last name he finally learned to be Trenton), killed them on the spot. Although reluctant to participate in this cruelty, his skills in Dark Magic were commended, and he knew that would help him remain in the Dark Lord's good graces, as it were, or rather keep him and his family from more danger for the time being.

Oddly enough, Draco began to take a dark sort of pleasure in what they were doing. His part in the process, torturing the would-be new Death Eaters, became strangely easier to handle as the nights progressed, and by the fifth night, Draco almost didn't think before casting a curse on witches and wizards who refused their offer. After that final night's work ended, all the Death Eaters heard their Dark Lord's voice in their heads:

"_Well done, my subjects. You have found many a new follower and supporter for our worthy cause, some of which may earn the high rank of Death Eater that you fortunate souls have achieved. You may disperse to wherever you were before, until I call upon you for another task or important duty. Until then, my dear minions."_ And with a shrill ringing, his voice faded from their minds. Draco found that the tingling of his Dark Mark that had persisted for the duration of the task cooled and left his arm feeling much less heavy. He Apparated back to Hogwarts, and went straight to bed, even though he knew he would have to be up again in a few hours.

* * *

Charlotte was happy to see Draco back safe and sound, but she noticed something odd about him that morning at breakfast. He was acting much more subdued than normal, and a frown appeared to be set into his features.

She approached him afterwards, and greeted him, "Good morning, Draco."

"Hello, Charlotte." He smiled fleetingly at her, the troubled look barely leaving his face.

She sensed something was on his mind, "Are you feeling all right after that long 'errand'? You were gone quite a few days, and by the look of it, you didn't get much sleep."

He shrugged, indifferent. "What day is it?"

"Saturday," she frowned. It wasn't like Draco to lose track of time. He always counted down to the weekend, when there were no classes and they could spend more time together. She desperately wanted to check his temperature, as Draco looked less than well.

"Good, I don't think I have it in me to sit through any blasted classes today," he rubbed his forehead, tired. "Can we, um, talk in private? I have something I need to discuss with you."

"Of course," she agreed heartily.

Upon reaching the study, Charlotte started building a fire in the hearth, and Draco sat on one of the chairs, staring at the carpet pensively. Once the fire kindled and started to crackle, she started the conversation, tentative.

"There, that should warm up nicely. Now that we're alone, what's troubling you, Draco?" Charlotte sat directly across from him, and shifted her chair nearer to his.

He glanced at her, almost shyly, "I think something's wrong with me."

"What do you mean?" she asked, her concern for him growing.

"Well, these past few days I was forced to try and recruit new followers for the Dark Lord, and it's a terrible, cruel process…" Draco went into a brief explanation of their goals and means of going about gaining new supporters for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. When he paused, worried he was saying too much or having a hard time talking about it, Charlotte would simply nod or offer a supportive statement, encouraging him to go on.

"…My task was to torture the targeted witches and wizards, often more than one person in a house, until they complied to join the Dark Lord, or, as was often the case, refused once again and… Trenton killed them. It was so shocking, I had to turn away sometimes." Draco's voice faltered at this point, as if the memory hurt him. "But it's not like I've never seen the Killing Curse used on people, I just can't get over the finality of it all… and then, something strange happened."

"How so?" Charlotte inquired gently; she knew how difficult this was for him.

Draco shook his head, as though what he was about to divulge was hazy to him. "As the nights went on, I slowly stopped being so bothered by it all. It fazed me less and less, and the whole endeavor became almost routine for me. And worst part of it all was the fact that…" his breath hitched, and he nearly began to sob, "… I—I actually started to take the tiniest bit of pleasure in torturing those helpless witches and wizards." Charlotte's eyes grew wide in shock and worry, "I for some reason believed it necessary to make sacrifices for his cause, even if that entailed hurting innocent people. I don't know where it all came from, and I don't want that to be me!" A tear fell down his face.

"Oh, Draco," Charlotte took him in her arms, embracing him. She could tell he was being truthful, and he really didn't want to be a bloodthirsty Death Eater.

He soon calmed, but he wouldn't let go of one of her hands. "When the errand was finished and I returned to Hogwarts," he sighed, trying to calm himself further, "I began to realize what I was thinking and how wrong it was. The terrible thoughts faded, but not without a fear that they might return." He squeezed her hand, "I don't want that to happen again, who knows how far I'll go?"

They sat in silence for a moment, and Draco began to worry he'd said too much. "Do you not believe me? Did I say something wrong?" He dreaded her response, and avoided her eyes.

"Of course I believe you, dear, and I'm glad you told me. I know in your heart you aren't a hateful person. I just…don't know exactly what to say." She held his hand and noticed he hadn't been eating much by the way his veins stood out more.

Draco nearly whispered, "It was so terrible, as if something had changed me temporarily. What do you think happened that made me feel so immoral and hateful?"

Charlotte gently stroked his hand, "I don't know, perhaps He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has the power to bend and shape his Death Eaters' moods and feelings to suit his purpose and needs. He knows you are a reluctant participant in Dark Magic and Death Eater activities, so he may have cast some kind of dark enchantment on you."

"How do I prevent that on future tasks he may give me?"

"I… I'm not sure," Charlotte felt terrible for being unable to help him. This was an unfamiliar, difficult subject for her, and she was at a loss.

Tears sprang anew from his eyes, and Draco buried his face in his hands. Charlotte rubbed his back slowly, trying to comfort him, searching her mind for a possible solution, anything that might help him. She racked her brain for any knowledge of Dark Magic or of Draco's abilities that could aid in this troubling predicament.

Suddenly, something occurred to her. "Draco, dear?" she inquired gently.

He replied, in a lackluster tone, "What is it?"

"How do you infiltrate another witch or wizard's mind?"

"Legilimency. But that's only for looking into someone's mind, searching for information." He frowned, confused.

"And how do you block someone from doing so?"

"Occlumency, of course. And I've mastered both skills. But what does that have to do with what happened to me?" his frown deepened at her strange reasoning. Draco lifted his head and was surprised to see she had a look of insight on Charlotte's face.

"Perhaps there is a way he's manipulating what's in your heart? There's a lot he could do with that!"

"There is a great deal I'm unaware of when it comes to Dark Magic, it might be possible." The wheels in his head began to turn as he started to see where she was coming from.

She nodded, "What if you could find a way to block it, similar to Occlumency?"

"Of course! But… how do I do that if I don't even know what he used against me?"

"Well, the heart is a powerful thing, and, like the mind, it has many doors and passageways. If you use positive emotions and feelings to counteract the dark ones you start to feel during future Death Eater activities, that could prove to be a powerful defense."

Draco nodded, but he was unsure how the Dark Lord had been able to manipulate him so quickly. Then he glanced at his wrist, something occurring to him.

He rolled up his left sleeve and said plainly, "When the task was over and I started returning to my normal state of mind, I noted the heavy, constantly prickling feeling coming from my Dark Mark seemed to fade as well. Do you think…?"

"…He might be using your Dark Mark as a medium for such manipulation." Charlotte finished his thought. "An efficient tool, especially because it's a permanent part of you."

Draco nodded, but still he worried: how would he counteract such a spell in the future? Charlotte placed her hand on his Dark Mark, and he met her eyes as she replied, "Don't worry, we'll find a way. And you'll have me standing by your side the whole time." She flashed him a kind smile, and kissed him lightly. At this, his heart skipped a beat; after being entrenched in feelings of hate and thoughts of the Dark Lord for days, he'd nearly forgotten how wonderful it felt to kiss her, and how much her love for him helped brighten his ever-darkening world. He felt as though that simple knowledge was enough to keep any threatening evil at bay forever.

It was then that Draco noticed that the hand she rested on his tattooed wrist had a bandage wrapped around the palm. He frowned slightly, suddenly forgetting about his problems, "What happened to your hand, Charlotte?"

"Oh, that," she retracted it quickly, placing it in her lap next to the other, unbandaged one, "It's nothing! Don't fret, I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You're hurt." He gently took her injured hand and examined it. He removed the bandage slowly, and a series of lacerations coursed around the front and back of her hand. Draco asked again, almost growling, "What happened? What did this to you?"

"Just a stupid mistake. During a duel a few days ago, I cast a spell that rebounded, and it cut me. But it's not that bad, Draco," she tried to assure him.

"Who were you dueling?"

She shrugged, "A boy who I'd never talked to before. He was rather courteous, forfeited straightaway when he saw I was bleeding."

Draco was filled with frustration. He was afraid she would get hurt. "Did anything else happen while I was gone?"

"Well, I…" she began, but sighed, "…no, nothing else." She knew what he meant, that he would hear of nothing except her pain, and that he would blame himself for it. "Draco," she spoke in a low voice, "It's not your fault at all. It was mine, and spells rebound all of the time."

"I know," he traced the healing wounds on her hand, remorseful.

Sensing his self-blame, Charlotte added, "No matter what you're thinking, Draco, you didn't fail as a protector. I always feel very secure, knowing that you care so much about me." She placed her other hand on his knee, and he returned her gesture with a tired smile. "And your safety and well being matter to me, too, Draco. More than anything."

In response, Draco took her in his arms and embraced her tightly. His heart felt much lighter than it had in days, and when he asked if they could simply spend the day resting and recuperating in the study, Charlotte was happy to stay with him. Draco fell into a restful sleep on one of the sofas, and woke periodically to find his girlfriend making tea or doing her homework. He eventually persuaded her to lie down next to him and rest. With his arms protectively around her, Draco was able to relax, far from any thoughts of Death Eaters or Dark Lords.


	33. Chapter 33

**{Side note: Before I continue, I would like to say something. In terms of characters, there are very few in the Harry Potter series that I dislike. Astoria Greengrass is one of those characters that bother me for some reason. She's the reason I created Charlotte LaRocque, as I believe Draco deserves someone better than her. So, I apologize in advance, as I don't paint a very nice picture of the young Miss Astoria Greengrass. I do not mean to offend; this is merely my take on how things should have gone. Anyway, I hope you enjoy my next chapter!} :)**

* * *

**Chapter 33**

"Isn't it wonderful, Draco?" she mused, smiling broadly as she looked over a piece of parchment.

"Isn't what wonderful? What are you going on about?" he replied, more concerned with the entangled mess in his hands, his Herbology homework being the unraveling of this devilish, sneaky plant, due the next day.

He still didn't face her as she elaborated, "A Magizoology workshop in Romania, to work with dragons and the like. There's an opening, and Snape, as well as my other professors, have recommended that I go!"

"That's nice, Charlotte." He dropped the plant down on a table in front of him, frustrated.

Sighing, Charlotte went to sit across from him and offered to help him figure out his Herbology plant riddle. He was slow to accept her aid, too proud to admit he wanted her help, but he finally conceded. As they worked, Charlotte explained to Draco about the Romania trip: how it was a great opportunity to expand her Magizoology knowledge with hands-on experience with dragons, how she would be able to apply what she'd been learning in her classes, how it was a two-week-long trip that began at the end of the month, and…

At that point, Draco interrupted, "Wait, you'll be gone from school? What of your class work? I know how you absolutely dread getting behind, much less miss 'important lessons' and all of that insanity that comes with being such a bookworm."

She easily answered, shrugging, "I've been working ahead all year, for your information, and my professors are pleased that I'm already pursuing my career interests."

"But…" he paused, "How will I know if I'm doing all right with _my_ schoolwork? And how will I… know whether you're safe if you're hundreds of miles away?" He looked down, his spirits a little low. He muttered, "And playing with dragons, no less. How's that for a relaxing, stress-free vacation?"

Charlotte put her hand on his, dotingly. Draco met her gaze, and the worry that glinted in his silver eyes, dulling them slightly, made her want to fall into his embrace and never let him go.

"Sweet Draco-" she smiled at his little blush "-my dear, sweet Draco. Always looking out for me. I'll be fine, and far from any Death Eater activities in Romania."

Draco nodded, "That's true. But I'll miss you. And I'll probably fail my classes without my tutor here to correct my countless mistakes." He feigned distress at that, and she rolled her eyes.

"Oh, hush, you hardly need me for most of your assignments, I'm simply here to keep you company nowadays."

Something occurred to Draco, and he spoke, worriedly, "What if you meet some gorgeous Romanian boy who I can't compete with?"

"As if I could ever find anyone as handsome and wonderful as you. Have no fear, Draco Malfoy, my heart belongs to you, and it always will."

At this, his face lit up and he smiled broadly, glad at the reminder that he had someone who thought so highly of him, and believed him to be worthy of their love. Charlotte was delighted to see him so happy.

Together they figured out Draco's entangled, enchanted homework, laughing as they did so—Draco emphasizing his little triumphs and attempting to devalue Charlotte's. She shook her head, smiling at his playful jibes.

As the two went through the castle at the end of the evening, about to go their separate ways, Draco said, thoughtfully, "You know, that trip of yours sounds rather interesting."

"You don't mind that I go, do you?"

He shook his head, smirking, "I don't think I could stop you. I wonder if you picked up that stubbornness from spending so much time with me."

Charlotte smiled, shrugging, "Oh, I don't know, I've always been a little strong-willed, but you may have something there."

"Let's hope that's the only thing you picked up from me," he spoke, faintly.

She stopped him and made him look her in the eyes before she went to Ravenclaw for the night, "Oh, Draco, you're always so hard on yourself. You have to stay positive. Can you do that, for me?"

He nodded, smiling slightly. He glanced around and replied, "I think that's one of the things I've gotten from you: the ability to stay positive. Especially when I'm thinking about you." He took one of her hands in his, raised it to his mouth and kissed it, like a Victorian courtier would do to a lady whose favor he was trying to win.

Charlotte blushed, surprised. He didn't usually like displaying such affection in public. She looked about them, slightly confused, and found they were in a deserted hallway. "One of the things?" she asked, a little out of breath.

"Indeed, my dear. But let's discuss it on another night. I must be going, and I don't want to deprive you of telling your friends about your fast-approaching trip to Romania." Draco gave her a tired smile, and Charlotte kissed him on the cheek.

"Good night, Draco," she whispered and squeezed his hand before trailing off to Ravenclaw, a contented smile on her face.

* * *

The dissonant, characteristic whistle of an approaching train fills the platform. Our focus turns to two people awaiting its arrival. One of them smiles at the sound, anxious for the train to come to a stop, clasping her hands with anticipation. The other stands a few inches taller than the former, watching her with admiration and amusement at the amount of bridled excitement coursing through her body. He places a hand lightly on her back, his white-blond hair shifting a bit with the light breeze.

"Are you going to be all right there?" he queried, tilting his head to one side and pivoting slightly so he could see her eager face more clearly. "You look as though you could burst."

"Of course I am, Draco. I am simply excited."

"If you say so. But it's your fault if you spontaneously transform into a horse and cause an uproar on the platform." He teased.

Charlotte pulled out of his grasp, retorting, "Come now, that's never happened to me!"

He shrugging, pretending to be unconvinced, to spite her further. Draco smirked at her slight irritation at his teasing. "Are sure you're prepared? Have you packed everything you need?"

Draco and Charlotte were the only ones from Hogwarts at the Muggle train station where they would meet the Romania-bound line, and Draco had tagged along so he could bid his girlfriend farewell far from prying and critical eyes.

"I believe so," Charlotte nodded absently, "I do hope I haven't left anything important behind." She double-checked her suitcase, tightening the buckles and straps.

"What about me? I'm pretty important, aren't I? But, I don't think I'll be able to fit in there with all that, it's probably too full of clothes and shoes and other silly things that girls apparently need."

"Oh, shut up," she rolled her eyes, "I am not that frivolous. But it would be lovely to have you along. You'd probably be bored to tears, however, and I don't want to put you through that. And I would feel terrible if you had to miss all of your fascinating classes." This time, Charlotte was the one doing the teasing, and she got a scoffing gesture in return from her beau.

The train soon came to a stop, and it neared boarding time, so the two embraced. "It's only two weeks, I'll be back before you have time to miss me." Charlotte rubbed his back, comfortingly, as she knew he didn't want her to leave. Draco leaned forward and kissed her sweetly, an affectionate gesture she readily returned.

Upon ending the kiss and releasing her from his arms, Draco quipped, smiling, "Have fun playing with those dragons, Charlotte!"

"I will! Oh, and Draco," she added, pausing, "I'll write you every day and seal the letters with one of these…" Charlotte then planted a gentle, lingering kiss on his cheek. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Charlotte." He smiled, "I await your correspondence, my little filly."

With one final squeeze of his hand, she bid him farewell and boarded the train. As it started away from the station, Charlotte waved from a window, and Draco nodded cordially in response, smiling pleasantly. When she was out of sight, the white-blond-haired boy looked around him, suddenly feeling alone. He put on an indifferent expression, one he commonly wore. It created the illusion of arrogance and a haughty attitude that he had perfected, and that everyone had grown to associate with and expect of Draco Malfoy.

* * *

A few days after she left, Draco sat in the Great Hall, picking at his breakfast, his mind filled with thoughts of what Charlotte might be doing in Romania. He was so preoccupied that he didn't notice when someone sat next to him.

A sudden noise, that of someone clearing their throat, uttering a clear, purposeful, "A-hem?" broke him out of his reverie.

Draco glanced to his left, a little put out. Near him sat a witch with brown, meticulously straightened hair, and a snobby air about her. Confused, he asked, "Can I help you?"

She straightened her skirt and replied, "You're Draco Malfoy, aren't you?"

Hesitant, he raised an eyebrow, "Yes, I am. What do you want?" This girl and her presence really started to irritate him.

"I hear," she began, tossing her hair that fell in carefully styled cascades about her face, "That you are quite skilled at Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Maybe I am… Why? And who wants to know?"

"Astoria Greengrass. Fifth year Slytherin." She held her hand out, expecting it to be taken and shook, or perhaps kissed, as if she were of nobility. Draco left it hanging, her gesture disregarded. "Anyway," she continued, dropping her hand, unfazed, "I'm having some trouble in that class, you see, and I hear you may be someone I could get help from."

"Why me?" his disdainful frown remained, "I'm a very busy man." He was rather curious as to why someone would seek help from him, a boy who didn't do very well in school until Charlotte had come along. Draco thought he had heard of this Astoria girl, but he wasn't sure who from or what he'd heard. His mind was too befuddled by the odd circumstances of this exchange.

She shrugged, "I can't imagine asking anyone else, everyone I've talked to says your knowledge on the subject is unmatched."

_Who in the world would she have talked to about that?_ He thought to himself. After a short, deliberating pause, he replied, "I guess I could give you a few pointers…"

"Excellent." She stood up deliberately, "Tomorrow, one o'clock, in the library. Until then, Draco Malfoy." And without another word, she strode off, purposeful in her movements.

Watching her leave, Draco blinked a few times, unsure of what he'd just agreed to. A fifth-year girl had just gained his help with a subject that he knew well, and they were apparently having some sort of meeting in the library the next day. He couldn't help but notice that this girl, Astoria, had a commanding presence, and that she was what most guys would consider rather good-looking, Draco included. He felt bad for having such thoughts, but he loved his girlfriend deeply, and in his eyes, Astoria could never measure up to his Charlotte.

He was unfortunately oblivious to this girl's hidden agenda, and to the fact that, because he was a very attractive boy himself who came from a wealthy family, many were envious of him, and that quite a few girls lusted after his money an—or rather, lusted after _him_.

* * *

The highlight of Draco's days those couple of weeks was receiving a letter from Charlotte, telling him of her adventures in Romania. She always sounded as though she was enjoying herself, and always ended them with an endearing sentiment, such as "Only X amount of days until I come home to you! ('X' being replaced with steadily decreasing numbers, of course) I miss you and I love you, Draco. Sincerely, Charlotte". He was reading one such letter on a bright Wednesday morning, reveling in her many adventures, not feeling so downhearted.

"Draco!" A distinct, beckoning voice pierced his pleasant thoughts.

He didn't face her, suddenly filled with disgust. Why did this girl suddenly like him so much? She was rather self-absorbed, often let slip mention of her materialistic, worldly attitude. For the past few days, Astoria had trailed after Draco, demanding attention and aid on her Defense Against the Dark Arts work, which she clearly understood but faked misunderstanding so as to justify seeking him out so often.

"Draco?" she spoke again.

His gaze was still focused on the folded sheet of paper in his hands as he growled, "What, Miss Greengrass?"

"What's that in your hands?"

"A letter," he answered ambiguously.

"Who's it from?"

Draco began to retort, "My gi…" he almost revealed his close relationship with Charlotte, but caught his indiscretion. Clearing his throat, his mouth a tight line, he corrected himself, "My mother."

"How nice." She said, lingering where she stood.

Rolling his eyes, Draco said, "What do you want, Miss Greengrass?"

"Nothing, I'm just making sure you are still available to help me in the library this evening."

Unaware of having ever made any such plans, he glanced at her and shrugged, "Well, I suppose… but I-"

She interrupted, completely ignoring the fact that he wasn't finished speaking, "Wonderful, Mr. Malfoy. I look forward to our time together!" And she left once again.

At a loss, Draco gazed at the letter in his hand longingly, wishing that with enough willpower and magic, he could use it to conjure Charlotte herself. Hanging his head, he tucked the letter safely into his inside shirt pocket.

As the two sat and worked in the library that night, Draco was very impatient to leave, as he had his own work to do, and longed to do so in Charlotte's study. His preoccupation was cut short when, out of nowhere, Astoria placed her hand on his briefly, causing Draco to narrow his eyes, suspicious. Moments later, her hand returned to his and remained there. Draco frowned, clearing his throat, and when he caught her gaze, he glanced pointedly from her inappropriately placed hand to Astoria's face. Her diatribe slowed, and she simply smiled at his repulsed expression, lightly squeezing his hand before releasing it and resuming her rant. Revolted, if not the least bit upset, Draco stood and departed, stating he had important business to attend to.

* * *

Often, to take his mind off of missing Charlotte so much, (and to avoid Astoria) Draco would spend time with Crabbe and Goyle, discussing with them the latest updates in the Dark Lord's campaign and what his next strategy might be. He didn't enjoy it, but it distracted him from his messed up situation, and helped him keep aware of what was going on in the world, when he might be called upon for another terrible task.

More than once during that two-week period, the Dark Lord's messengers called upon Draco to do tedious tasks such as research about magical beings and creatures he wanted to enlist. After learning a bit about them, he would be required to report back to his mother or aunt Bellatrix about whether they would be useful to the Dark Lord's cause or just a waste of time.

During one such mission, while on his way to the library for some research on ghouls, Draco was startled by Astoria's sudden presence next to him. He increased the speed of his gait to a brisk walk, but she kept up, even if just at his heels. She followed him down the halls and into the library, still vying for his attention, no matter how much he tried to ignore her.

"I have some research to do, and I'm rather pressed for time. What is it you need?" he demanded, slamming his books down on a table.

There was a pause, and a chill went down Draco's back when he straightened up, as he thought he felt a breath on the back of his neck. He pivoted 180º and saw that Astoria stood inches from him, gazing up at his face, examining it.

"Nothing," she smiled wryly. "Just imagining what it might be like to be you: handsome, witty, smart, talented at many kinds of magic, from a noble, well-off family… so many girls would _kill_ to be on your arm, Mr. Malfoy." She had moved even closer to him, and was tilting her head to one side suggestively.

There was no denying that Astoria was an attractive girl. Her sudden, close proximity amplified her pretty features: silky brown hair that was styled so meticulously, startling hazel eyes, a nicely shaped face, and a seductive smile. Draco's heart began to race, as he began to panic. Almost completely flustered, he muttered, "I wouldn't say that, Miss Greengrass, but I-" he soon discovered an escape route, "—I really must be going now. Good-bye." Draco ducked out of Astoria's reach and bolted out the nearest exit, grabbing his books as he went.

Now fully aware of what Astoria's intentions probably entailed, Draco was mortified, and now more than ever yearned for Charlotte's comforting presence. He shut himself in her study, and took a few moments to compose himself. Placing his hands on his knees, catching his breath, he remembered that he hadn't read that morning's letter from Romania. His spirits suddenly lifted at the thought, and he retrieved the envelope from his inner pocket. He sat upon an ornately upholstered armchair, and broke the seal.

After clearing his mind of any and all terrible thoughts, he read it eagerly. When he finished, he wanted to cry out in joy. Charlotte, his beloved Charlotte, was to return the very next day! The very moment he saw her, or at the first free moment, he planned to embrace her tightly and tell her how happy he was that she was back at Hogwarts. He hoped that seeing Charlotte would make this whole dramatic, terrible situation with Astoria Greengrass disappear.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Draco sat in Potions class, copying the directions Professor Slughorn provided for that day's activities, his mind elsewhere. Charlotte was returning from her Romania study that day, her train scheduled to arrive during the school day, so that was all he thought about. She'd written him saying that she wasn't sure exactly when she would be back, but it would be that day, a chilly Friday in early November. His morning classes passed without much excitement, and he soon found himself in Potions, one of their only classes in common. Within the first few minutes of Potions, he heard a familiar voice.

"I apologize for my absences, Professor Slughorn."

"Ah, returned from your trip, have you, Miss LaRocque? I trust it was a riveting experience?"

"Very much so, Professor."

Draco had to try very hard not to look up at the sound of her voice, and when she sat in the empty seat next to him, it took him all he had not to smile. He sat up straight and said, trying to sound detached, "Miss LaRocque."

In return, she nodded and replied pleasantly, "Mr. Malfoy." Their extra-formal greetings made Charlotte laugh quietly. Draco raised an eyebrow in response, but flashed her a quick smile at their pretense, at once straightening his shoulders and resuming his work.

Once class was over, Draco muttered something to Charlotte about hanging back in the corridor, as there was a matter he needed to discuss with her, to which she agreed without a second thought.

She trailed behind, as she said she would, talking to Slughorn about whether she had any missed assignments, departing after the majority of students had gone to their next class. She left, and waited for the hallway to empty. Once the said corridor was sufficiently vacant, she found Draco leaning on a wall nearby, his arms crossed, waiting expectantly.

"_Finally_ you're here. It's about time," he spoke, feigning impatience. Charlotte approached him, took one of his hands, and was elated to see a faint blush and a smile cross his face. He then embraced her affectionately, lifting and spinning her in a circle. Laughing, she held him tightly. When he set her down, their arms remained about one another, and they stood with their faces inches apart.

"Welcome back, Charlotte." Draco muttered.

"I missed you," she replied, playing with his hair. "That was quite the greeting, my liege."

"You have no idea how terrible it was having you gone," he sighed, as if a huge weight was being lifted off his chest.

"It couldn't have been that bad, I wasn't gone that long." She tilted her head, curious as to what he might mean.

He gushed, "It was worse than you think. Nearly _unbearable_!" Tilting his head in response, his lips met hers briefly. It was an affectionate kiss, but there was something else in it, a sort of hesitance that Charlotte noticed only when something was on his mind.

She took in his expression: content, relieved to have her back, but there was something else there, and that slightly worried her. "What were you up to while I was gone? How were your classes?" she asked, making conversation.

"Well," he thought, "Classes were fine, boring as ever, even more so without you here to make them more manageable. There were also things I needed to do as a Death Eater, and stuff like that…" he trailed off, and it was then that she saw the confirmation of his uncertainty, the hesitance to elaborate.

"I see. What kind of Death Eater tasks?"

"Just research and the like, and reporting to sentries in the area, but nothing too stressing. That I was glad about, I don't know how I would hold up without you there to help guide me." He smiled at her, a guarded smile. It was as if he was hiding something from her, something that embarrassed him.

As they walked, Charlotte noticed Draco glancing about every once in a while, as if worried a ghost or something would jump him, catch him unawares. "Do… do you have somewhere you need to be? Or is someone expecting you?" she asked, following his gaze.

He clipped, "No! Of course… of _course_ I don't have to be… nobody is, uh, looking for me." Trying to recover from his little bout of paranoia, Draco took Charlotte's hand, an action that calmed him immensely.

They came to the point where they usually went their separate ways, and before Draco could leave, Charlotte grabbed both of his hands gently, "If there's something on your mind, I'm here. I won't get nosy if you do not wish to elaborate, but remember, if ever you want to talk about anything that's troubling you, just let me know."

With a grateful smile, Draco nodded. To remind himself that she really was back, he gently placed a strand of hair behind Charlotte's ear and softly kissed her. Sighing contentedly, he watched as she smiled and went in the opposite direction, to her next class.

* * *

Now, Draco wasn't the only one who dealt with ardent, unwanted admirers. Charlotte knew exactly what he was going through. As opposed to her beau, however, she was adept at catching such advances, and carefully brushing them off. Cormac McLaggan was a good example, as he made advances on a regular basis, but Charlotte knew just how to dismiss him. Despite his popularity and obvious good looks, he never really interested her. On her way to her next class, Care of Magical Creatures, Cormac came up from behind her. "If it isn't the dragon girl, back from her expedition in the wilds of Romania!" he crowed, and Charlotte turned to him, annoyed. "Charlotte, it's been lonely here at Hogwarts without your pretty face to grace the corridors."

"Shut up, Cormac." She rolled her eyes.

"What? I'm just stating the truth, it's a shame you can't see how gorgeous you really are. We'd make a lovely pair, the best-looking couple in the school!" He sneakily slid am arm around her shoulders.

Ignoring him, she kept walking, Cormac easily keeping pace with her. Leaving his arm where it lay, he continued, "You know, we could make it official. It's obvious that you feel the same way, Charlotte…"

She stopped in her tracks, "Me? Have feelings for you?" Shrugging out of his arm, she continued, "Cormac, how many times do I have to tell you? I am not interested in being your arm candy!"

"What? Who said anything about being arm candy? I merely mean that you'd be… my girlfriend."

"Your girlfriend? What would that entail? Showing me off to your family, being seen with me in important places… I can't tell you how much I don't want to go out with you." She spoke resolutely.

Slightly fazed by her response, he paused, and Charlotte shook her head and walked away. He finally got his thoughts together and said, "You say that now, but we'll see."  
...

Later that evening, in Charlotte's study, Draco asked her how the rest of her day was, still happy to have her back. He was doubly pleased because he hadn't seen Astoria all day.

At his question, she replied, taking a break from the parchment she wrote on, "It was nice, I'm glad to be back to my routine. But ugh!" Her tone suddenly became one of loathing, "That blasted McLaggan! He's so terrible."

"Why? I can't stand him, but I didn't know you had something against him. What did he do?" Draco was amused by her evident distaste for the oh-so-popular Cormac.

"Ever since our fourth year, he's been lusting after me. No, lusting after me and every other pretty girl in the school. He comes up to me today, dares to put his arm around me—the nerve!— and asks me to be his girlfriend." She shuddered at the thought.

"Arrogant rich boys not your type?" he teased, as she was dating one of those stereotypes.

Catching his little jab at her taste in men, she replied teasingly, "Oh, hush! When it came to you, I could see through all of that to a caring, brilliant boy, but with him, there's nothing else there! Cormac's just… a bunch of hot air. A pretty face, but no substance."

"I'm glad you think so," he smirked, "I couldn't agree more." He paused, taking a moment to process what he'd just heard. If Charlotte knew what it was like to be pursued by someone you did not care for, could she help him with his Astoria problem? Draco failed to mention it, however, as he thought the problem was solving itself, and that Miss Greengrass had caught the drift that he did not prefer her company.

As the curfew for students drew near, the two finished their schoolwork and got to talking. Charlotte had so many stories about Romania, but she had only time to tell a select few, and Draco enjoyed seeing her so happy and engaged in something she loved. He didn't have as much to share about the two weeks she'd been gone, simply taking pleasure in her company.

Charlotte sat on an antique-style chaise lounge chair, and Draco on an armchair he had taken a liking to. As Charlotte finished a story and simply lay there, staring into space, lost in her own thoughts, Draco gazed at her dotingly.

"Do you know," he spoke, interrupting her thoughts, "what I have been dying to do for what seems like the longest time?"

"What?" she glanced at him.

Draco stood and went to her, sitting beside her. "Being able to do this…" He moved even closer to her, and leaned forward as if to kiss her. Before their lips met, however, he buried his face in her neck, inhaling her sweet scent that he knew so well. She giggled, as he was tickling her as well, his fingertips expertly running up and down her sides, finding her weak spots on her ribs.

"Draco, please!" she managed, between fits of laughter, "Come on, that tickles!" But he kept on tickling her, and she kept squirming and laughing. "We'll get caught, Draco, please…"

"By who? We're in our study, safe from prying eyes," he paused for a moment, listening overdramatically, as though they were being watched, before resuming his onslaught. He finally ceased, and Charlotte continued laughing, in his arms. Draco held her as she caught her breath, leaning into him.

"You are so irritatingly charming," she panted slightly. "If you were anyone else, I'd have smacked you upside the head. Instead, I'll do this…" Charlotte kissed him lightly on the tip of his nose.

"Well, that's a relief. I was afraid you'd get upset with me."

She shook her head, "I'm much too happy in your arms to be upset."

Draco pulled her closer, pleased. They lounged for a while in each other's arms, simply enjoying being so close. When curfew arrived, they were reluctant to leave.

"Aww, just when I get you back, we have to leave." Draco looked at her with remorse as he released her and she stood up.

"But I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, Draco. You have me back for more than just tonight. I'll see you bright and early tomorrow. After breakfast we can spend the whole day together, remember?" Charlotte stood, stretching like a cat.

"Of course, how could I forget!"

The two trailed reluctantly back to their respective houses. Having nearly approached Slytherin, Draco stopped and glanced furtively at the girl who held his hand. "Now, before I go, I have one thing to tell you…" Draco took her hands, and whispered in her ear, "I love you, Charlotte." She blushed and he briefly kissed her goodnight.

* * *

The weekend started out as very pleasant for the two of them. They spent that Saturday relaxing and making an amusingly clandestine trip to Hogsmeade. Things were going so well, that he completely forgot about his situation with Astoria, and when it did come to mind, he dismissed it as a matter of the past. Despite this period of high spirits, he was far from home. While that Saturday was a lovely one, Sunday, on the other hand, was to be a different story altogether.

It began as normal, as Charlotte walked down Slytherin table, seeking Draco out to tell him good morning. She did not find him, however, only locating his book bag, obviously a placeholder as he went to demand more food. She smiled at the thought, and patiently awaited his return, sitting on the bench next to his bag.

She then noticed there was something odd about the arrangement of his things: it was far too neat, and her attention instantly went to a white rectangle placed on top of his book bag. It was an envelope with Draco's name on it in a script she didn't recognize. She picked it up, curious. Surrounding his carefully written name was a simple but indicative heart. Charlotte stared at it, dismayed. She glanced around to see if the perpetrator was close by, and saw nothing suspicious. She glanced back at the heart-covered envelope: it was definitely a girl's handwriting, and the heart was an unmistakable sign.

Charlotte was shocked. How could Draco act as though he loves her, and at the same time go behind her back with some other girl?_ This must be why he's been so jumpy since I got back_, she thought to herself, the terrible realization piercing her like a cruel dagger. She shook her head, deeply hurt, and blinked hard to keep the newly forming tears under control.

Making sure no one saw her almost-breakdown, Charlotte glanced once more at the terrible envelope before replacing it, and started out of the hall. She caught sight of Draco approaching from the opposite direction, a smile crossing his face as their eyes briefly met. Squaring her shoulders, she simply looked elsewhere, ignoring Draco, and brushed right by him without sparing him a second glance.

Draco watched, bewildered, as she exited, avoiding people's gazes and periodically wiping her eyes. _What's_ _eating_ _her? I do hope nothing's wrong…_ he mused. He knew girls sometimes acted out of character for reasons unbeknownst to him, and he thought this just another example. He rolled his eyes, _I must have done something yesterday that's still bugging her._ He was still curious, as she seemed particularly upset that morning. He sighed, deciding not to press the issue, and went to his book bag, purposefully left where he was previously sitting, to establish his spot.

About to sit down to a second plateful of fresh fruit and other breakfast foods, something caught his eye. Shifting his gaze accordingly, he noticed an envelope. He frowned again, puzzling over the letter. He noticed the writing was familiar, but definitely not done in Charlotte's handwriting. Glancing in the direction Charlotte left in, it finally occurred to him.

"Bloody hell…" he muttered, suddenly understanding her actions, and looking around for any evidence that she had returned. Draco noted the seal hadn't been broken, so she hadn't read Astoria's note. He was glad for that, as whatever the fifth year girl wrote would've just made things worse.

Completely forgetting about breakfast, Draco set out to find Charlotte. He grabbed his belongings, and walked purposefully into the hallway, looking discreetly in both directions. He went to the study, and she wasn't there. Encumbered by his book bag, Draco left it next to one of the armchairs to retrieve later.

He saw Charlotte a couple of times, sitting in the library or on a staircase, staring into space absently, with pain etched into her features. Upon hearing him approaching, Charlotte glanced in his direction, but glowered at the boy, and walked purposefully away from him in each instance. Draco soon lost all sign of her, and decided it was no use. He would have to let her come to him.

* * *

Sure enough, late that afternoon, while reading a textbook in the study, an activity he only did when troubled or extremely bored (outside of Charlotte's suggestion, that is), Draco heard someone unlock the door, slowly turning the handle. He slowly sat up, and when Charlotte slowly entered, she didn't notice him at first, her breath hitching slightly, and labored, as if she'd just been running. She started towards a couch, but movement caught her eye, and she stopped short. Charlotte met Draco's cautious gaze, and she turned to leave once again.

Draco protested, "Please, Charlotte, wait!" She paused a second, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

"Why should I?" she growled.

"Because, I need to talk to you. I haven't seen you all day, and you appear terribly upset. I just…"

"How observant of you, Malfoy, I _do_ happen to be a smidge upset. But why would you care about how I feel?"

He took a breath, and replied, "Because you're important to me, Charlotte."

"Oh, am I? I've found evidence that says otherwise," she turned to face him, her arms crossed and her fingers drumming her arm impatiently. "I have a feeling something happened in my absence that might be less than proper."

"About that, and about what you saw, I'm really sorry, I thought it was all over. Just let me explain…"

She looked at him sideways, expectantly awaiting his justification.

"Well, you see, it's a rather amusing and odd story of misunderstandings and other awkward occurrences, and…" Draco felt terribly flustered, and hated not being able to form coherent sentences. The whole situation had him confused and upset.

Running her fingers through her hair, exasperated, Charlotte interrupted him, "Tell me the truth, Draco Malfoy. Who is she?"

Draco gazed at her remorsefully, hating himself for putting her through this pain and misunderstanding. If only he'd mentioned something before, then all of this could've been avoided. He looked at his hands and sighed, trying to figure out where to start…  
~


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

"Tell me the truth. Who is she?" Charlotte demanded, repeating her question, her arms still crossed.

Draco stuttered, unsure how to respond, "Y-you're blowing this all out of p-proportion, dear, it…it was nothing, really!"

She approached him, "What's her name? What happened while I was gone, Draco?" When he didn't reply, she dropped her arms, and spoke pleadingly. "You can trust me, I won't have a fit or anything. Just tell me, Draco: who is she?"

Draco sighed. He hated to make Charlotte upset. He looked down and muttered, "Astoria Greengrass."

"A _fifth_ year girl?" Charlotte retorted, and then backed off, "All right, Astoria. Did anything happen between you two while I was on my field study?"

Draco looked into her eyes, fearing that whatever he said might hurt her. "She approached me one afternoon with a question about her Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and since I'm _very_ good at that subject, I helped her." At this, Charlotte rolled her eyes, but he ignored it, "After that she would seek me out for other reasons unknown to me, but she kept searching for opportunities to interact with and be around me."

"Did you encourage her?"

Draco put his hands up, "Of course not! I ignored her, as I usually do to people I can't stand, but she kept on. Something about how she acted made me feel as though she wasn't paying attention to me because she thought I was smart or a good person, but because of my family's name and money."

Charlotte relaxed her shoulders a bit, "So, it was a one-sided pursuit? Nothing came of it?"

He shifted uneasily, "Well, more than once she tried to make advances… take my hand or lightly touch my shoulder, but I brushed her off pointedly every time."

Charlotte's temper flared, "That meddlesome little..." shaking her head, not wanting to voice her true opinion of the girl, she continued, "Astoria didn't kiss you or anything, did she?"

"No… if she had tried, it would have been hard not to slap her…" he shook his head, a little leery of Charlotte's anger.

Charlotte ran her fingers through her hair, and sighed to calm herself down, "I'm sorry, Draco, I'm just so… I've been hurt before by guys who abandon me for some other, stupid girl, and I… I don't want that to happen again. I don't want to lose you!" Tears started forming in her eyes.

Draco took her into his arms and rubbed her back, reassuring her, "You don't have to worry about that, Charlotte. The way she acted around me –overly familiar, much too forward, and rather shallow– made me appreciate just how special you are to me."

"Honestly?" she implored, and when he nodded, she replied happily, "I'm so relieved! Thank you, Draco."

"No problem. As opposed to Miss Greengrass, you don't care about my family name or money, you actually love me for _me_, faults and all." He lightly kissed Charlotte.

Charlotte broke the silence a few moments later, "And that… letter?"

"Just another useless attempt to get my attention, and the only one of its kind," he scoffed.

She nodded, reassured. "So," she added slyly, "are you tired of Astoria bothering you?" When he nodded vigorously, rolling his eyes, she smirked, "What say we teach that girl a bit of a lesson?"

Draco raised an eyebrow, confused.

"When's her Defense Against the Dark Arts class?"

"It usually ends at 3 o'clock. Why?"

"When she comes looking for help tomorrow, we'll have something planned that'll show her how far out of her league you really are."

"But won't that make a scene…?" he inquired, amused at her attempt at scheming. "All right. What's this so-called plan of yours?" He sighed, amused at her devious attitude. Charlotte then described her tentative idea to him, and he slowly cracked a smile as it took shape in his mind.  
~

The next afternoon, as Astoria left her Defense Against the Dark Arts class, she began to look for Draco, a practice she had made into habit, knowing that he usually passed by that way in a moment or two. He was soon in sight, but something differed about his approach: a girl whom she had never seen before accompanied Draco that day, and they were deep in a heated argument. Astoria still awaited his approach, believing that Draco would probably dismiss this new girl when he got to where she stood, turning his focus only to Astoria.

"…I told you, Draco, you should have studied. If you had, you wouldn't be so upset and blaming me for your failures."

"I don't think so! I did study, but the questions tricked me! It was written just to make brilliant wizards like me fail!"

The two continued to bicker, slowing to a stop only a few feet from Astoria. She quickly took in this new girl: dark brown hair, brown eyes, slender, moderate height, and only mildly good-looking compared to how pretty Astoria believed herself to be. She approached Draco and the semi-pretty girl who was plaguing the handsome, rich boy with this petty argument.

The strange girl rolled her eyes, "Oh come now, Draco, those mind-altering potions are not all too difficult to understand. How could he have tricked you if he took questions from the book?"

"I don't know, he just did," Draco insisted.

Astoria interrupted, "Hello, Draco, ready to help me with my studies? It was a particularly hard lesson today, and I—"

"Not now, Miss Greengrass," he said angrily, not taking his irritated gaze from the mystery girl, "I'm rather preoccupied at the moment." He narrowed his eyes at the dark-haired girl he was arguing with. "Maybe you shouldn't have gone on that stupid field study. Then I'd have passed the stupid quiz!"

"You're still blaming me? Unbelievable! Your incompetence is your own fault, Draco, it has nothing to do with me."

"Draco, I really think we—"

The boy silenced Astoria again, retorting, "Perhaps you should've stayed in Romania, then I wouldn't have to deal with all of your blasted criticism!"

"Oh, really? Is that what you honestly think? I should've stayed in Romania? What would happen to all of your precious good grades then, do you think, without all of my help?" She crossed her arms, and with every retort and remark they got closer and more in each other's face.

Astoria began feeling very uneasy, hugging her books to her chest.

Draco then growled to the mystery girl, "You. Are. Impossible!"

"No I'm not. You're the impossible one."

Now their faces were inches apart, and the tension between them was almost palpable. Suddenly, Draco grabbed the girl's shoulders, leaned forward, and kissed her fiercely. Astoria's jaw dropped, and she didn't know how to react. When Draco pulled back, breaking the kiss, the girl gave him an annoyed, yet amused look.

"You're terrible," she shook her head, gently shrugging his hands off. She turned and walked past Astoria, flashing her a slight smile, "Good afternoon." She glanced back at Draco, and rolled her eyes before walking off purposefully.

Draco sighed audibly, convincingly feigning displeasure and distraction. He turned to leave in the direction from whence he came.

"Um… Draco? Wh-who was that? _What_ was that?" Astoria spluttered, starting to follow him.

Draco slowed and turned back, about to reply, but dismissed her with a wave of his hand and walked off, distracted.

Astoria simply stood there, dumbfounded, looking in both directions, at a loss as to what had just happened. Now, Astoria was notorious in her house and her year to be quite the gossip. She had believed she had Draco's favor secure in her grasp, but this little display confused and embarrassed her so much that she did not find it worthy to repeat to her friends and cronies.

A few seconds later, when Charlotte and Draco met back up, in a shadowed area just out of Astoria's line of sight, Draco had to keep from bursting out in thrilled laughter. Charlotte had a triumphant look on her face as she watched the confused Slytherin girl's intense inner struggle, trying to make sense of what had transpired.

"That was brilliant!" he exclaimed, and Charlotte had to put her hand over his mouth to quiet him, but she couldn't hide her smile.

"I hoped it would work," she exclaimed softly, "but I hope you don't mind that lots of people saw you kiss me. I know you wanted to keep _us_ a secret."

"Don't worry, we still are. In fact, she's the only one who saw our little exchange. I cast a little dark spell I know that hides the user and a select few from detection even in open areas," he smirked.

Charlotte's disapproving look didn't last, as she was too pleased with the outcome of the little staged outburst. "If she tells anyone about this, will I be in trouble?"

"Of course not, I'll bet she's never been so bewildered, she won't tell a soul that she was so humiliated," he laughed. "Well, we should probably be off to class!" He started off into the darkened hallway.

"Since when have you been excited for getting to class?" she asked him, mocking skepticism.

"Since… since you came back and made them fun again!" he improvised.

Charlotte shook her head, "Nice try, Draco. You're still afraid she's going to come after you, aren't you? Just want to get away before she catches you again, right?"

He nodded slowly, sheepishly.

Approaching Draco, she reassured him, "I'm pretty sure she won't bother you anymore. She's been 'humiliated' while pursuing a guy that's already spoken for. She's probably figured out that you aren't interested in her. Besides," she added, absently, "there are no more classes today, so you have nowhere to go."

Taking her hand, he rolled his eyes, "All right, fine. You caught me. Now, let's go to the study. I have _lots_ of homework to do tonight, and I could really use your help."

"Of course! What's on the itinerary for tonight, _mon_ _amí?"_ she said brightly.

"Well, don't get too excited, it's just Potions, for one…" Draco rolled his eyes, smiling as they walked hand in hand to their study.  
~

As Draco did some last minute homework during breakfast one bright morning not even a week later, an owl gently dropped an elegant envelope marked with the Malfoy crest before him. "Ah," he remarked as he broke the seal, "What could Mother possibly want this time?" As he read it, he frowned, hiding his dread.

That afternoon, he stormed into the study, groaning, "Ugh!" He found Charlotte sitting at the windowsill, staring miserably into space. Ignoring his problem for the moment, Draco went to her side, "Charlotte? Is something wrong?"

She broke slowly out of her reverie, and simply said, "It's terrible."

"What is?" he started to get more worried.

She glanced at him, sadly. "Here, see for yourself," she handed him the folded sheet of paper, and returned to her downcast staring into space.

Draco looked it over, and Charlotte said softly, "I got a B on my quiz…" At this, Draco was immensely relieved, and started to laugh.

She glared at him, "Don't laugh at me!"

"Oh, is that all? I thought someone had died, or you were hurt! But it's only a B on a quiz?" His laughter grew, and he was nearly doubling over.

"This isn't funny, Draco. Grades are very important to me. Oh, what if my grade in the class drops?"

"Dear Charlotte," Draco sighed, catching his breath, "always so amusing. It's just a B! Classes are harder this year, especially with some Death Eaters as teachers. And in Defense Against the Dark Arts? You don't have to worry about that class when you have me around!" He took her in his arms protectively, continuing, "But either way, you do just fine in that class, and a B here and there won't hurt your grade. It happens, everyone has off-days. That is…" he trailed off, sounding overly panicked, "unless this isn't a sign of an impending streak of bad grades!" He released her from his embrace, mocking fear.

"It is not!" she retorted quickly, "I don't think I'm on a downward spiral. And you're right, I shouldn't stress about one B. Now," she sighed, "what were you groaning about when you barged in a few moments ago?"

"I did not barge in! Anyway, it's about a letter I got today from home."

"What does it say?"

"That my parents need me home more in the near future, something to do witt my so-called _debt _as a Death Eater. So, come the weekends, I'll probably be going home most of the time." The edge in his voice masked the unease that threatened to show through.

"And that… worries you, doesn't it?"

"No! I mean… yes. I don't know why they want me home, what they'll expect of me! Maybe Mum and Dad did something to make the Dark Lord angry, or… Oh, I don't know! I don't like it there, my home crawling with Death Eaters…" he crossed his arms.

Charlotte put her hand comfortingly on his arm, listening as Draco told her what the letter said, and his concerns about its implications. Understanding the difficulty of the situation, she nodded thoughtfully, and said, "All right. Whenever you're needed, just head out. But please let me know you're okay. That's all I ask."

"Really? You don't mind?"

"Not at all. Family is important, especially in this instance. You need to be extra careful, though," she took his hand, "Things are getting more dangerous, and I worry more every day."

Draco nodded, pulling her to his side, leaning on her, "I know. But I think I'll be safe. The Dark Lord doesn't particularly hate me, so I'm not on his hit list." He laughed dryly. He then had a thought: what if Charlotte accompanied him to his home? It definitely would make things more bearable for him, but he hesitated before mentioning it. She would be in very real danger –a Muggle-born among a horde of Death Eaters. It didn't make a difference to Draco anymore that Charlotte was a Mudblood, but the other Death Eaters that were using Malfoy Manor as a center of operation would just as soon kill her if they learned about what she was. Draco decided against telling her of his idea, and simply said, "Thanks, Charlotte."

"Whatever for? I didn't do anything."

"You're simply always there when I need you. And I don't know what I'd do if you were suddenly gone. Just… thank you."

She didn't say anything in return, just flashed him a sweet smile and placed a lingering kiss on his cheek. "Now, what say we take a little walk before we start on homework? It's not going to be this nice soon, what with November just around the corner."

Draco nodded, smiling. They walked out of the castle, bickering playfully to keep up the façade of the rich snob and his tutor, but once they were out of hearing range, he shyly took Charlotte's hand. As they strolled along the lake, Draco noted how happy she was outside in the fresh air. Her peaceful expression and the reassuring feeling of her hand in his reminded him how grateful he really was to have her. She filled any role he needed her to: tutor, friend, confidant, comforter, and more; and she did everything she could to make him feel happy and loved… He wondered what she sacrificed to be so devoted to him and his well being. It wasn't schoolwork; her grades were more than exceptional. He often saw her with friends, so she still had a social life… Draco shook his head.

Noting his pensive look, Charlotte cocked her head to one side, "What is it?"

"Nothing," he smiled thoughtfully.

"All right," she eyed him, curious as to what was on his mind, and returned to admiring the world around her. When the clock struck quarter to eleven o-clock that night after a long night of studying, Charlotte began to pack up her belongings. "I'm off to bed, I think. No late-night reading for me!" She yawned. When she went to hug him goodnight, something caught her eye. "My wristband!" she exclaimed, "You're still wearing it."

"I wear it every day," he smiled, straightening out the black, silver and green wristband.

"Really? I'm glad you like it so much. Goodnight, Draco!"

They embraced, and he replied, "Sure, Charlotte. Sleep well. Oh, and…" he paused, "I love you."

She shuddered with pleasure at his words, and replied softly, "I love you, too!"

As Charlotte disappeared form his view, he glanced thoughtfully at the wristband she had so carefully crafted and enchanted to let the tiny horse and dragon figures shift and dance. He then realized something: Charlotte did all these things for him, and loved him so much no matter what, but he had done almost nothing for her in return. This thought made him felt very selfish and ashamed. He was no better than a leech, feeding off her devotion, and Draco desperately wanted to change that. He resolved to do something for Charlotte that would show her how much she meant to him. He didn't know what or when, because while he was involved with this Death Eater business, she was in danger, and everything that was happening with the Dark Lord kept him extremely busy. The only thing he could focus on, for now, was just keeping his little filly safe, no matter what.  
~


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

"_How could you let such a thing happen? After all I've forgiven you for?"_ the cruel voice rang in Draco's head once again, _"I'm warning you, Malfoys, all three of you! I only have so much patience, and it is wearing thin. I have had nearly enough of your failures! If I weren't feeling so generous today, you'd all be dead! Next time, don't let the vermin get away!"_ Draco's weekends hadn't been going well, in particular, the most recent one. He'd been called home for the past three weekends out of four, and despite small jobs here and there, he hadn't had to face anything especially strenuous. This last one, however, was terrible.

The Death Eaters at the Ministry of Magic had recently apprehended a man who had been labeled as a blood traitor to the Pureblood group and a threat to the Dark Lord himself. He was sent to Malfoy Manor for questioning about a new threat, a secret anti-Lord Voldemort organization outside of their awareness. Draco and his parents had been in charge of keeping him incarcerated until Bellatrix or another higher-ranked Death Eater arrived to torture and interrogate him. One night, when Draco's father was on watch, he fell asleep, thanks to a sleeping potion slipped to him by an undercover ally of the prisoner. The prisoner then escaped, with the help of his accomplice, and ran off into the night. The accomplice was discovered and subsequently killed by Lord Voldemort, but the blame was laid upon the Malfoy family for the error. This had resulted in criticism and torture, on Lucius' part, and threats for more drastic action should it happen again.

The events of the past weekend lay heavily on Draco's mind, and he was in a terrible mood because of it. Draco spent the dull Monday morning brooding, and as he stormed down a hallway, he was completely unaware of Charlotte's approach and pleasant beckoning call.

He passed her by, and Charlotte looked after him, confused. She called again, a little louder, "Draco?" When he still didn't register her presence, she rolled her eyes and dismissed it, as she was in a hurry to get to her Advanced Care of Magical Creatures class.

Later, when she did manage to get his attention after Potions class, Draco snapped at Charlotte in response. He had been tight-lipped during Potions but this outright rudeness irritated her. "What was that for?" she demanded, feeling a little hurt, "I just wanted to tell you some good news. I thought it might lift your spirits a bit."

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm just in a bad mood."

"Why? What's wrong?" she laid a comforting hand upon his shoulder.

"The Dark Lord is blaming me and my family for letting a blood traitor escape, and it was not our fault. It makes me so mad!" he shuddered, unintentionally shrugging her hand off.

"Mad at the Dark Lord? Or mad that the blood traitor escaped?" she sneered.

"Oh hush," he clipped, "You know what I mean."

"Maybe I do, but that doesn't give you the right to take it out on me, Draco. I haven't done anything to make you upset, even tried to make you feel better, and you've been talking to me as though I'm the one you're angry with."

"Charlotte, I…" he began, starting to feel apologetic.

"I have to go. Maybe you'll have cooled off by the next time I see you." She turned and exited in the opposite direction, leaving him alone in the corridor.

That afternoon, Charlotte wasn't in her study, and she didn't come to dinner in the Great Hall. Draco tried to put it out of his mind, he deserved to be ignored for his rudeness, but he started to feel worried. Where was she? And was she really still that mad? He couldn't go to Ravenclaw and ask for her, as that would imply that something might be going on between them. He ate his dinner and did his homework on his own, struggling a little bit here and there, as his mind was wandering and without her help, things weren't as simple in his less interesting classes. As he worked, he pondered how he would make it up to Charlotte. After everyone was in bed, Draco looked out the window near his bed, unable to sleep, scanning the Forbidden Forest for any sign of his girlfriend, all the while contemplating.

* * *

The following morning, Charlotte was strangely absent from Potions class. During lunch when she didn't show up, Draco resolved to find her, his concern shifting to mild panic. He looked in all of her usual hiding places, their study, even doing some snooping around Ravenclaw house. As he passed a corridor that led to a few empty classrooms and the offices of some of the newer professors, he heard menacing laughter, followed by a distressed cry coming from the far end of it. Curious, Draco followed the noise, and snuck into an empty classroom that proved to be the source of the voices.

There he found the Carrow siblings, Amycus and Alecto, sniggering as they stood with their backs to him, muttering spells and the occasional insult.

"You little fool, what were you doing out there, anyway?"

"You know there's a curfew, how could you break it?"

"Tell usss…" Amycus hissed, and when he got no response, he muttered, "_Crucio!_"

Draco heard a cry of pain that was strangely familiar that was silenced quickly. His tone was aloof as he attempted to appear detached, trying to mask the shaking in his voice, "Alecto? Amycus? What's going on?"

The brother turned to face him, "Ah, Malfoy! We've discovered a rule breaker, and we're teaching her a lesson!"

"Is that so?" he spoke, curious.

"Oh yes!" the sister exclaimed gleefully, "I do love a good disciplining."

"Who've you got?" he raised an eyebrow, honestly curious, but more than the least bit worried.

The Carrows parted to reveal their prisoner, a girl sitting back on her knees, her head down and her hands balled into fists on the floor in front of her. Her long hair hung freely, covering her face, and she shook from the pain of the curse she had just endured.

Draco was suddenly filled with anger at the Carrows, and he spoke irritably, struggling to keep his composure, "What have you done?"

Alecto replied, wondering why he was getting upset, "She was breaking the rules, so we apprehended her. She won't tell us what she was doing!"

Charlotte looked up, her once-sparkling brown eyes dull and tired, and brightened at the sight of Draco, but a slight shaking of his head stopped her from saying anything.

"What did she do?" he demanded.

"She was wandering around outside long after curfew looking suspicious, so we asked her what she was doing. She said she was just on a walk, returning from some homework or something, but she was acting flighty. She handed us a so-called _pass_ that was obviously forged, and assumed that she was lying."

Draco, fuming, thought on his feet, and exclaimed, accusingly, "Is that any way to treat an errand girl of Snape?"

The Carrows looked at the boy in confusion, so he elaborated, pointing at Charlotte, "Snape sent this girl to fetch him some Deadly Nightshade only last night. Why, I bet she still has it on her, in her bag." Draco fished through her book bag, facing away from the Carrows, and stuffed some Nightshade from his pocket into Charlotte's belongings. "Ah, here we are." He took the Nightshade out of her book bag and showed it to the Carrows, who flushed, embarrassed. "I'll bet the headmaster is livid about his errand being unfinished, and would love to hear about how his staff hindered it."

The Carrows stood awkwardly, unsure what to say, not wanting to anger Snape, one of the only Death Eaters they were subordinate to, as getting him upset could lead to being at the mercy of the Dark Lord himself.

Draco crossed his arms and dismissed them brusquely, "Now get out before I decide to go tell Snape about this mistake of yours." Thankful, they exited quickly and without protest. Once they were gone, Draco abandoned his disdainful façade, dropped his arms to his sides, and slumped his shoulders. Holding back tears, he spoke hoarsely, "Charlotte, I… I'm so sorry!"

She slowly stood, unsteady. Having regained her balance, Charlotte looked at him imploringly, and went resolutely to him, seeking refuge. Draco took her into his arms, protective. She shivered, as if she'd been out in the cold all night, and tears fell silently down her face as she stuttered, "I… I was just… I was coming back from a walk… I'd finished my assignment early, and took a walk to let off some steam, and they… I had a pass, too, but they didn't c-care… th-then they…"

Draco leaned his head on hers and whispered, "Shh, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong." He kissed her hair, "This is all my fault. If I hadn't been such a prat to you, I might have been there to protect you from those blasted twins… I'm sorry, love."

They remained in each other's arms for a few silent moments, relishing to company of the other person. Draco ran his fingers slowly through Charlotte's hair, trying to find a way to make up for the ordeal she had gone through. She was immensely calmed by his presence, and the tears began to slow as she caught her breath and stopped shivering, warmed by his embrace.

Charlotte broke the silence, "Thanks for coming to my rescue. That was really quick thinking, Draco, where did you get the Deadly Nightshade?"

Draco had to smile, albeit only fleetingly, "I had it in my pocket from Herbology this morning. I guess that class is helpful, sometimes. I was worried about you, Charlotte; it's not like you to disappear. I mean, I deserved to be stood up in the study, but when you missed your morning classes without having someone to call in sick for you, I knew something was wrong. How are you feeling?"

"I don't know how much longer I could have lasted. They kept me up all night without food or water, using varying forms of torture for no reason. I don't know what they wanted to hear, I just told the truth and they punished me for it! I was so afraid!" She clutched his shirt tightly, burying her face in his chest.

"I'm here now, and you're safe. You don't have to be afraid anymore." He held her close for a few moments more, and continued, "Let's get you to the Hospital Wing, see to getting you some rest and care."

They left the room and the corridor. Charlotte was limping, and spoke pleadingly, "Draco, I can't... ouch!" She cringed, holding her side, tears starting to fall again at how much moving hurt.

It broke Draco's heart to see her in such pain, and he didn't want to make her walk when she was in pain, so he made to pick her up in his arms.

At this, she was touched, but said, "Are you sure you don't mind? I mean, I know you..."

Draco hushed her, "I don't care what anyone else thinks. You're hurt, Charlotte, and all that matters to me right now is getting you to safety."

"You really are much more honorable than you give yoruself credit for, Draco. Yet another reason why I love you," she smiled weakly.

Draco blushed slightly, cleared his throat, and gently lifted Charlotte into his arms. He brought her to the Hospital Wing, and explained to Madam Pomfrey what happened. When the clock chimed for afternoon classes to begin, Draco was reluctant to leave Charlotte's side.

"Go on, Mr. Malfoy," Madam Pomfrey reassured him, "I'll keep an eye on her until you get back."

Draco nodded slowly, and glanced at Charlotte, still concerned. When he caught Madam Pomfrey's eye, the nurse was smiling pleasantly, noting his doting gaze. At this, Draco blushed a bit and frowned, walking out quickly.  
~

"You promised she wouldn't get hurt," Draco spoke heatedly.

The headmaster didn't lift his gaze from the scroll he was writing on, "What are you babbling about, Malfoy?"

The boy shattered a gargoyle on a shelf with a silent spell, and Snape finally looked at him, not amused. "_What?_"

"Those blasted Carrows, they hurt Charlotte! You told me she'd be safe."

Snape was sorry, but short on patience, as he replied, "What happened?"

"She was out a few minutes after curfew doing an assignment for Care of Magical Creatures class, and when she tried to get back into the castle, those fiends snatched her and tortured her." His voice shook, and Draco was mad at himself for letting a little weakness show through.

"Did she have a pass?"

Draco nodded, "Of course, but they ignored it. When I found her and put a stop to it all, she had bruises and cuts on her arms, broken ribs, and more."

Snape stood and went to a window, "I'm sorry that happened, Malfoy. I know you must be feeling some anger right now, but I assure you—"

"I feel terrible! I promised her I would keep her safe, and that _you _would help, too, and now… she's lying in a bed in the Hospital Wing…" his voice wavered even more, and broke.

Snape approached him, feeling sorry for the boy, "But she is recovering?" Draco nodded again and the headmaster continued, "Then you can still protect her. I don't believe she will hold this against you or I, seeing as the Carrows frequently act of their own accord, as we know. With a flourish of his wand, Snape repaired the broken gargoyle to its original state.

Draco sat slumped in an armchair sitting opposite Snape's desk, feeling defeated. He was frowning, his face full of worry and self-loathing.

Returning to his chair behind his desk, Snape returned to his work. After a few moments during which the only sound was that of a quill running rhythmically across parchment, Snape added, "It could have happened to any student, it has nothing to do with you or the fact that she's aware of the presence of Death Eaters. To the Carrows, she's just another student. In fact, if it weren't for all that I'm doing to protect Miss LaRocque, she would've succumbed to a worse situation, and far sooner. You could say, Malfoy," he paused, and Draco frowned slightly, awaiting the finished thought, "that Miss LaRocque is lucky to have you, and your coming to her rescue was a very fortunate thing."

Draco smiled at the thought, a little proud.

"Now get out of my office, Mr. Malfoy," Snape ordered, shooting down any further comments or complaints the boy may have, and Draco was willing to comply, grateful for the headmaster's support in his quest to protect Charlotte.

* * *

Now, Draco was a very busy man, and didn't have much extra time, but when he had bit of time here or there, such as during meals, he would drop by the Hospital Wing to see how Charlotte was doing. She slept a lot, and the Skele-Gro and other potions wore on her. During these times, Draco would merely sit with her, doing homework or eating, there if she ever needed someone to talk to, or just to hold her hand. But, because of how tense everything was, he was never there when any of Charlotte's friends or other Death Eaters were near. He desperately wished there was something he could do to help her feel better. On the third day of her stay in the Hospital Wing, Draco was in high spirits, as he'd overheard someone mention that Charlotte was starting to show signs of significant improvement.

That morning, Draco headed straight to the Hospital Wing after breakfast, and smiled as he saw Charlotte picking at what looked to be the remnants of a small breakfast on a tray on her lap. Glancing around to make sure no one was in sight, Draco slowly approached Charlotte.

She heard him coming, and looked up from her tray, smiling, "Draco! What a pleasant surprise!"

"Good morning, my dear." Draco said warmly, and took something from behind his back, "I got this for you yesterday. Thought it might lift your spirits a bit."

He handed her a small package, which she opened, revealing a green scarf. Her face lit up at the sight of it, and she held it to her face, sighing contentedly at the warmness of it.

"It's getting to be colder outside, I thought you might like something new to keep warm. What do you think?"

"It's so warm and soft…" she rubbed it on her cheek, "It's perfect, Draco, I love it. Thank you."

"My pleasure." He paused, and all the negative thoughts came sweeping back as he saw the bandages and wrappings on Charlotte's arms and torso. He sat down next to her bed, and his tone had changed when he spoke again. "How… how are you feeling?" he asked, suddenly forlorn.

"Better," she smiled at him, "The remedies are working fine, but…" She inhaled quickly, cringing as she did, still feeling painfully sore. "Madam Pomfrey says my ribs are healing well, and that they didn't puncture my lung. How lucky is that? But, I'm still sore, and there's still a big bruise on my side."

He couldn't smile back, as he still blamed himself for her suffering at the hands of the Carrows. He averted his eyes, "That's good."

"Draco, look at me." When he turned back, her dark eyes gazed into his, and she continued, "You don't need to feel so sorry, it was not your fault."

"I know, I just…" He took her hand, "Your safety is one of my top priorities, and I feel like I've failed you."

"You're the one who saved me, Draco. I was the one who stayed out too long and let the Carrows find me."

"But you had a pass! You had homework outside, and your professor excused you, and the Carrows completely ignored it. I should have been with you, perhaps they would've left you alone. If I hadn't been such a prat and acted so rude to you, the maybe I'd…"

"Every couple has spats now and then, it's perfectly normal," she tried to reassure him.

"That might be true, but—"

"Things like this happen, especially with all the Death Eaters around, and we just need to be more careful and look forward."

"You're right, as always." He smirked playfully at her.

She shrugged, "I don't know about that, sometimes you are more right than you give yourself credit for." She yawned, fighting off the drowsiness that her treatments often caused.

Sensing she needed rest, Draco reluctantly stood and said, "Right then. Keep thinking healing thoughts, and relax. I'll be back later." Charlotte nodded and sighed, settling back into her pillow. As a farewell, Draco placed a kiss on Charlotte's hand before releasing it. Still feeling guilty, he reluctantly retreated, encountering Crabbe and Goyle as he left.

"Why the long face, Malfoy?" Crabbe asked, and Goyle nodded in agreement.

"Nothing, I'm just tired. It's called insomnia, you dolts."

"Is that so? Can't sleep? Something not going right in Draco's perfect little world?" Crabbe laughed. "I'll bet it has something to do with your loss of that ever-so-important blood traitor all those days ago. Pity you're losing your touch…"

"You'd better watch yourself, Crabbe. You're skating on thin ice as it is, and if Snape, or even a simple professor, found out what you were doing in the Greenhouse, what you've got growing… you'd be out of here and out of the running to become a Death Eater." Draco warned him.

"Shut up, Malfoy, not even Professor Sprout suspects, and she's the main Herbology teacher." Crabbe started to get flustered, turning red with the worry instilled by Draco's implications.

Draco shrugged, "Well, rub me the wrong way, and I just might let something slip, and before you know it, you'll be discovered and without a home or someone to turn to, as I doubt your parents condone such behavior. In fact, your time may run out before I get the chance. Just keep a close watch, Crabbe, and I'm sure you'll be _fine_." He smirked, and walked off, the two oafs trailing behind him like two huge, clueless dogs. Draco's acerbic façade effectively masked his worry and ever-present regret at his failure to protect Charlotte, but her reassurances eased his pain, knowing that she held nothing against him. He just knew he'd have to be even more vigilant.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

"Draco, I'm sorry to keep asking, but can you grab my quill? I've knocked it off the table again, and it's rather hard to get to in my current state."

"Of course," he said easily, leaning over to pick it up, placing it before her. He smiled at her slightly embarrassed expression. She hated imposing on him, but Draco enjoyed attending to Charlotte.

For the past week or so, Charlotte had been going to class as normal, after spending about five days in the Hospital Wing with a couple broken ribs and other minor injuries at the hands of Alecto and Amycus Carrow. She had been released, but she wore a sort of enchanted brace to help with continued healing. It looked sort of like a Victorian bodice, and had been enchanted to fit her body exactly. Draco didn't openly admit it, but he found it looked rather cute on her. It restricted Charlotte's range of motion, so Draco had to assist her more than usual, which he didn't mind at all.

She was annoyed with it, but Draco paid her many compliments, and his increased attention to her needs was flattering and very sweet. He treated her like precious jewel that one had to be careful not to break or chip. Often, she complained about the bodice-like brace, but Draco would argue that it made her look like nobility. She always blushed demurely at his comments, telling him he that he was far too kind.

That evening, as they made their way from the library to Great Hall for dinner, Draco teased her, "You should wear that if you're ever invited over to Malfoy Manor, my parents would highly approve."

Charlotte rolled her eyes, "Oh, I'm sure. Corrective braces are all the rage in the British aristocracy."

"But that looks good on you! As if you're wearing a modern-day corset that's actually helping your ribs rather than crushing them."

"Well then… thank you," she smiled at his awkward attempt at a compliment, adding, "Out of curiosity, do they –your parents– approve of us? Do they even know that we're dating?"

Sheepishly, Draco replied, "No, they aren't aware of it at the present time, but… my mother really liked you at the Malfoy Ball last year! But, let's not worry about such things now." He placed a hand on the small of her back as they walked, "How are you feeling today, by the way? Sore at all?"

She took a deep breath, testing her ribcage, and responded happily, "Not at all! Madam Pomfrey told me that in only a day or two I can stop wearing this stupid thing. I can't wait to get rid of it, and not be so restricted in my movements!"

Donning a sly smile, Draco muttered in a suggestive tone, "Neither can I…"

Charlotte's eyes widened, and she ignored the increase in her heart rate as she scolded him gently, "Draco! That's… that just… you're _terrible_. You've got a very dirty mind, Mr. Malfoy."

"I do not!" he protested, "You can't tell me you didn't pick up on the _possible_ double meaning in what you said, Miss LaRocque."

"Of course not! I know what's proper thought and…" she paused, flushing slightly, "and…_that_ has never crossed my mind!"

Draco smiled at her pause, and snaked his fingers under her brace at the small of her back.

Her breath caught, "Draco! What if someone sees you? Here…" She took his hand and placed it on her waist, so that his arm was around her.

Draco felt his heart begin to race at his nerve. Usually he was very reserved in his affection for her when there was a risk of people being around, and Draco wondered why he was feeling so at ease. As a teacher approached, Draco casually dropped his arm, hiding any evidence of their relationship, only to snake his arm back around her when he was gone, pulling Charlotte gently closer to his side. Charlotte merely reveled in her beau's oddly public display of affection, leaning into him as they walked.

* * *

The following morning, Charlotte left Ravenclaw table quickly, pausing momentarily to bid Draco a decorous "Good morning" as she passed him on her way out of the Great Hall, her destination being the Hospital Wing. He shook his head at her enthusiasm, watching her in amusement as she exited.

That afternoon, Draco wondered how Charlotte was doing, if she really was healed. He had an awful lot of homework to do that he was a little stressed about, so his mind was occupied as he headed straight for their study, as was normal. Not thinking anything of it, Draco opened the study door and went right inside, and began to set his things down, when a small cry caught his attention.

He looked up, startled, and saw Charlotte standing there, in front of a mirror, completely clothed from the waist down, but the only thing she wore on top was a blue bra. She was holding a shirt in front of her, her arms crossed protectively across her torso. Draco paled, and said, "I, uh… Sorry to… uh—"

"Get out!" she hissed, and Draco complied without protest.

Draco stood outside for a few minutes, completely flummoxed, his heart pounding. He had just walked in on a half-dressed Charlotte, obviously having interrupted her clothes change. _She's going to kill me! I've never done that before, and she looked so upset!_ He started to panic, fearing the consequences. He stood in front of the closed door in a daze, unsure of what to do next. To passersby he must have appeared to be petrified, a most amusing sight indeed. _Although… _Draco thought to himself, _I can't say I didn't maybe… like what I saw…_ He tried to clear his mind, but the image of her –slender waist, defined arms and shoulders, and flat, toned stomach– persisted.

He relaxed, and went to leaning on the wall next to the door, awaiting his judgment. It was then that he heard the doorknob turn, and Charlotte opened it, speaking more calmly than he expected, "You can come in now."

Slowly, Draco entered the study, and looked for her, expecting to find Charlotte glaring angrily at him. He found her, and she stood next to the mirror once again, this time fully clothed, but in a different outfit than she wore earlier that day.

"I'm not going to yell at you, Draco. You don't have to look so afraid. I promise I'm not going to bite," she said, almost bemused. She tilted her head, "Just please knock next time, okay?"

"Are you sure you're not mad?" Draco was still wary of her reaction.

"Mad? No. Just a little surprised," she sat down on the arm of a chair. "I suppose you want to know what I was doing?" Draco shrugged, and then nodded sheepishly under her questioning eye. She explained, "Madam Pomfrey said I could stop wearing the brace this afternoon, so I conjured this mirror so I could see if I still had any bruises on my sides left over from the initial attack." She paused, looking Draco in the eye, "I didn't see any, did you?"

"No," Draco shook his head.

"What did you see?" She raised an accusing eyebrow.

"N-nothing, if you don't want me to…"

"Don't look so anxious, I'm just teasing you."

"All right, if you say so."

"You look as though you're afraid I'm going to scream at you! Really, Draco, I'm not upset," she tried to comfort him, patting the space on the couch next to her.

He tentatively sat down, "But I walked in on you changing! I blatantly violated your privacy. You have every right to be angry with me."

She shook her head, "Not at all. I think it's rather funny, to be honest. The look on your face was priceless!" She laughed, "And you've seen me in my swimsuit before, practically the same thing, so no harm done. Okay?"

Draco nodded, but there was something about it that made him feel as though seeing her in her bra was more intimate than a swimsuit. The rest of the night, the awkwardness he felt slowly faded, as Charlotte acted as normal, doing her homework alongside him, joking and poking fun at his vast abilities (or lack thereof) in certain subjects. He was relieved, and relaxed as the evening went on, resuming his regular mannerisms, glad that she really didn't seem fazed by the episode. She even let him kiss her goodnight, but she couldn't keep from laughing at his slightly hesitant, sheepish expression.

* * *

The next morning, Draco heard a commotion coming from Slytherin house commons as he returned from breakfast. When he began to climb the stairs to the boys' dormitory, Draco glanced behind him absently, curious as to its source.

"Is it true, then? What they're saying about you?" a younger, messy-haired boy was talking, motioning to Vincent Crabbe, who stood on one end of the group, looking dumbfounded, if not the least bit worried.

"They must be lying!" Crabbe muttered.

"Why, what're they saying?" A second boy interjected, enjoying his floundering.

"That Crabbe here has something _curious_ growing in Hogwarts' greenhouse!"

"I do not! Why would I do something as stupid as that?" Crabbe nearly growled. Draco continued observing, mildly amused at the exchange.

A third boy began to speak openly, "Well, you're not the smartest bloke, and frankly I—"

The talkative boy was silenced by Crabbe's fist being launched into his stomach.

"Holy hell, Crabbe… What was that for? He didn't do anything to hurt you. He was just talking, and…"

"Everyone shut up! I didn't do nothin'! I didn't grow nothin' in the blasted greenhouse!" Crabbe sighed and rolled his shoulders, trying to calm down. The other boys backed off, continuing to talk in hushed tones outside of his range of hearing, obviously about Crabbe.

Draco turned, about to continue upstairs, when a crash made him return his gaze inquisitively to the common room. The door to Slytherin house had been slammed open, and a few Death Eaters stormed in, followed by Professor Snape.

"Headmaster? To what do I owe the pleasure?" a Slytherin prefect stood, addressing Snape.

"I'm looking for Vincent Crabbe." Snape scanned the room, and when his eyes found the boy, they narrowed. Crabbe looked at the headmaster in defiance, trying hard not to betray the fear that lay so close to the surface. "There has been some incriminating evidence found against him and his character. Mr. Crabbe, have you been in the greenhouse lately?"

"Herbology class, I suppose, but not much besides that. Why, what's going on?" Crabbe tried to sound nonchalant, failing miserably.

"Is that so? I have a source that has shown me otherwise. Do you know anything about… illegal hallucinogenic herbs?"

Crabbe paled at the mention of such plants, but kept his composure.

Snape continued, "I'm sure Professor Sprout has no specimens and almost never mentions them in her classes, as they are most unsafe and illegal, yet I find them growing in the school greenhouse. And with your fingerprints nearby… What do you have to say for yourself, boy?" He demanded, and Crabbe attempted to clear his name.

"Well, I… must've accidentally picked them up during class yesterday, mistaking them for another herb, they all look the same to me!"

"You aren't even enrolled in Herbology, Crabbe. Come with me. You're in deep trouble, young man." Snape headed out, and two Death Eaters grabbed an arm each, keeping him restrained.

"Wait! You can't just take me, how do you even know it was me? Did someone tell you? Who told you?" Crabbe looked accusingly at all the people in the common room, and when his gaze met Draco's, Draco grimaced, confused, as did all the other individuals when he glared at them.

As Crabbe was about to point and accuse Draco, Snape interrupted, remarking, "Actually Professor Sprout found them herself, growing like the weeds that they are and taking over a corner of the greenhouse. Now stop struggling, you're only making it worse."

As they left, Draco shook his head, oddly pleased with the outcome. Crabbe was the cause of his own undoing, and Draco found this amusing. The big lug had been getting on his nerves lately, and Draco was almost glad to have him off his back. He went up to prepare for a day of studying with Charlotte, and he had a lot to tell her, specifically about Crabbe and his comeuppance.

* * *

"Are you sure you're going to be safe without me this weekend?" Draco shivered, as they stood outside, in the Forbidden Forest.

"Yes, Draco, I'll be just fine," she reassured him, readjusting her scarf around her neck, "I've got quite a bit to do this weekend, when it comes to homework, so I'll keep busy and out of trouble. Besides, I've got Snape looking out for me."

He gazed at her dotingly, pleased that she was wearing his most recent gift. "That's true. But I miss you when I'm at home, surrounded by all those wretched Death Eaters. And who knows what kind of terrible things the Dark Lord will make me do?" He shuddered.

"Wretched? You are one of them, so they can't all be that bad." She tilted her head to one side, trying to look extra cute.

"Well, I suppose I'm an exception to the rule." He tossed his head arrogantly, and added, whining, "Oh, I don't want to go! What if you get hurt again? I don't think I could live with myself if…"

She took his hands, intertwining their fingers, "Nothing has happened since my run-in with the Carrows, and that was weeks ago. You've left for a weekend many times before, and everything has been fine here. Just go home, do what you need to, and come back in one piece. That's all I ask." She wrapped her arms around him and sighed. "I miss you when you have to leave, too, but seeing you when you return makes it all worth it."

Draco sighed and said, "I'll be back soon, I promise." And with a brief kiss, he released her, and Disapparated. He reappeared at his home, Malfoy Manor. Usually when he saw his home, he felt a sense of relief, of refuge, but since summer, Draco's spirit fell at the sight of the looming mansion.

He went inside to find his parents sitting on the side of a group, as they usually did. His family had lost much of its credibility, and relied heavily on Draco's abilities and compliance to the Dark Lord to redeem them in his eyes. Draco resented this responsibility, but complied without question, as the slightest hesitation or disobedience could result in punishment of himself or his family. Luckily there hadn't been anything too big lately, but the way his parents were glancing at him from the edge of a crowd at one of the drawing room windows made him a little worried.

He went to their sides, "Mother? Father? What's going on?"

"The D-Dark Lord is punishing someone who disobeyed him," his father stuttered, "She was found in the company of a Mudblood. Whether she knew it is still up for debate, I'm sure she was unaware of it, but the Dark Lord found out and she's paying for it."

Draco's stomach dropped. He was associating himself almost openly with a Mudblood at school every day. He muttered, not betraying his composed expression, "What happened to the Mudblood?"

"Killed on the spot. The Dark Lord saw to it himself," Narcissa said blandly. "The Mudblood deserved it, I'm sure, but that poor woman… a new follower, too. Not Death Eater material, but she was doing fine."

"Pity," Draco said ambiguously. "What did you need me for this weekend, anyway? I have loads to do, so much on my mind with term exams coming up—"

"About that," Narcissa began, sighing, "I know how much your studies mean to you -especially this year- but your absences have become most inconvenient for the Dark Lord. We hear he may be going on the move, and needs as many followers as possible at his disposal in order to ensure his success with the werewolves. Fenrir Greyback's pack, I believe, and others in the area."

"What does that have to do with my schooling?"

"Come term break, you'll most likely have to stay home from school. We'll hire tutors for you, don't worry, you won't get behind, but you just won't be at the school itself," Lucius spoke matter-of-factly.

Draco began to panic—_Leave school and abandon Charlotte alone in that place crawling with Death Eaters? I don't think so—_and retorted, "What? You mean I'll have to leave school to do my 'duties' here? When I could be learning, from experienced Death Eaters who happen to teach my classes, methods and knowledge of how to be an even more proficient Death Eater myself? I think not."

"But, Draco, son, this is important." Lucius muttered.

"So is my education!" Draco's voice started to rise, and he made to stand up.

"Draco! Don't make a scene," his mother scolded quietly, placing her hand on his knee.

"Fine. Just think about my argument before you go and take me out of school in my last year before graduating." Then something occurred to Draco, "Now, wouldn't that be a disgrace? A Malfoy failing to finish his education at the prestigious Hogwarts School. Imagine the buzz it'll cause among your business partners…" He shrugged, "But, I'll let you two think on that, I'm starving, and I'd better be well-fed if I'm needed by the Dark Lord." Draco stood and stalked off to the dining room, which was naturally filled with food, the Malfoys' house elves working overtime to feed the many "house guests".

Draco ate slowly, worrying about what his parents said. _Will I really have to leave school? What about Charlotte? If I leave, how will I protect her? And I don't know what would I do without her if they took me out of Hogwarts. It wouldn't be a permanent thing, would it?_ He rubbed his eyes with one hand, and stretched. If only he hadn't spent the previous night tossing and turning in his bed, worrying over what new stresses the weekend would bring.

He glanced absently out a dining room window and what he saw horrified him. In one of the Manor's courtyards, a crowd had gathered, and the Dark Lord, so distinguished by his pale hand and hooded figure. He held his wand ceremoniously above his head and paraded about a crumpled figure, making some sort of declaration. Draco tried to figure out whom he had near death, and he realized it was the woman his parents had mentioned only moments earlier.

With a final flourish and a bright green flash, Draco knew she was dead. A silent uproar of support came from the crowd before him outside, and the group inside the entryway imitated the cheers. Draco's stomach dropped to his feet. That woman was tortured and killed for being seen in passing with a Mudblood… what would happen if his longstanding relationship with Charlotte, a Muggle-born witch through and through, came to light? At the thought, Draco began to feel queasy, and wanted to run to his room and just wait there for the weekend to end, but he knew that wouldn't be possible. Suppressing his emotions, he straightened his shoulders, and went reluctantly to join the morbidly cheering crowd.  
~

**{Hey everyone! Got a little foot note for you all: I know that Crabbe was in the final book, but he wasn't in the Deathly Hallows movies because the actor who played him got in some trouble, and wasn't able to be in the movie. So, that's why Blaise is with Draco and Goyle in the Room of Requirement in the Deathly Hallows Part 2. I just thought I'd put this little piece of movie trivia into my story! I don't own any of the real events, of course, I just incorporated it into my take on Draco's story, making Crabbe out to be a little more of a troublemaker. Thanks for reading so far, guys! I really appreciate your comments and feedback. I'll add another chapter soon!}**


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

"Would the next witch or wizard please step forward for questioning?"

Draco and his family were passing through the Ministry of Magic, now under new management, thanks to the Death Eater raid earlier that year, and he passed something that intrigued him. He slowed his brisk pace, and noticed a line of rather confused and worried-looking people, following the directions of a few Ministry workers. He glanced at the front of the line, a doorway opened into a dark hallway blocked off by red rope. Above the doorway read a sign: _Muggle-Born Registration Commission._ Draco then noticed a witch exiting a different door, next to the entrance, in tears. Her frazzled husband(or brother, what did Draco care?) was trying to comfort her. He overheard their conversation.

"Oh, John, she's lying! I didn't steal anything. Ollivander gave me that wand, and she's calling me a thief! That cruel woman's taken my wand, my job… I thought I was being invited for a Ministry position! But now… I have nothing…"

He tried to reassure her, "I know, dear, it doesn't make sense. If those blasted Dementors weren't there, I'd have given that old biddy a piece of my mind. At least you aren't being sent to Azkaban, like the poor man ahead of us…" He took her into his arms as she cried softly, tears streaming down her face, and guided her out of earshot.

Draco listened with curiosity, but what he heard unsettled him. What he usually would have scoffed at without a second thought worried him. Was that crying woman a Mudblood? And her wand and job confiscated simply because of that fact? Who, he wondered, was the cruel woman she talking about?

"Mum?" Draco inquired as he caught back up to his parents, "What was that line of people back there? Some woman just came out the opposite door, sobbing, and I'm rather confused as to why."

Narcissa glanced back, and saw the line of witches and wizards, answering easily, "That would be the Muggle-Born Registration Commission, son. Muggle-Borns are summoned to the Ministry, where Dolores Umbridge questions them. She usually takes their wands and sends them packing. There have even been a few Half-Bloods called in, if they have questionable family histories…"

"Some of them are even sent to Azkaban for their crimes, or rather, existence in the Dark Lord's pure world, so they don't dirty it up," Draco's father finished with a small smile, "And if they resist the summons, let's just say the Snatchers aren't very forgiving!"

Draco let their words sink in, and he added, his nervousness threatening to break through, "What of the Muggle-born students at Hogwarts?"

"They're soon to be sent for by the Ministry, I believe," Lucius mused. He then muttered, "The word is that some of them are already on the run to avoid it. Stupid little ingrates."

"Calm down, dear, there's nothing you can do to stop them. Let them meet their dooms without making a scene. Now, let's just keep to what we are to do here."

"What _are_ we doing here, anyway?" Draco whined, "I'm tired, and we've been walking about here for_ever_."

Lucius scolded his tone gently, "Quiet, son. We're here to find Yaxley, and deliver something to the Dark Lord, a message from an old ally at Durmstrang, and apparently he's been…"

Draco tuned out his father, who kept rambling as they walked, and when Lucius paused to take a breath, Draco rolled his eyes, interrupting, "All right, all right, I get it. Something important, and we can't mess it up, or else. Same story as always."

Lucius nodded, content with his son's acquiescence. Draco tagged along, though only acting the part of the engaged Death Eater, and not even doing that very well. He was verily starting to lose interest, and his anxiety and fear in what his being a Death Eater implied in terms of his affiliations and impending tasks had been building in him for months. They apparently completed the task, and traveled by Floo Powder back to Malfoy Manor, and turned the message over to Draco's aunt Bellatrix. She was acting as the all-too-eager medium until the Dark Lord returned. Draco could relax a little, knowing he wasn't at risk of being confronted or entrusted another task by the Dark Lord. After spending some time sitting around as his parents and other Death Eaters discussed what the message could mean for You-Know-Who's plan, Draco left as soon as he could, using the excuse of his last chance to study for term exams.

Draco arrived in the middle of the Forbidden Forest moments later, and sighed, leaning against an old tree, its roots gnarled with age. The scene at the Ministry with the Muggle-Borns was still replaying in his head, and he could very easily imagine Charlotte in the very same position, breaking down in the middle of a Ministry hallway, a shattered and hurt witch without her magic, her identity. He wouldn't let that happen, he couldn't. It then occurred to Draco that the Ministry must locate its Muggle-Born victims through records, including school records, and he himself had seen to it that hers was changed to exhibit a Pureblood status for Miss Charlotte LaRocque. He breathed an audible sigh of relief, and wandered back to Hogwarts castle, ignoring the cold, and not caring to look about for approaching centaurs or other monsters. It was early evening, and he was in no rush. He simply wanted to get back to his dormitory, and sleep.

* * *

The following morning, Draco awoke to normal Sunday sounds, boys milling about, reading the Daily Prophet aloud to one another, remarking about what they read, commenting on the photos and making up stories about the people or creatures in them. He stretched and sat up, realizing he had a free day to catch up on schoolwork. He smiled when he realized this also meant he had a whole day to spend with Charlotte. Draco got up, dressed, and glanced absently over his shoulder at the paper a few boys were poring over. The page they were turned to just so happened to discuss the very thing he'd witnessed yesterday. The familiar, almost cheery-looking sign over the ominous door, but there were no nervous people in line in front of it. Only an ominous figure, that of the new Minister of Magic, Pius Thicknesse, and a smiling little figure of Dolores Umbridge.

Draco recalled the days he was a part of Umbridge's official Inquisitorial Squad in his fifth year with a dark sense of nostalgia at those days of constant, and justified, sneaking around and sniffing out trouble. He shook his head, remembering his bustling enthusiasm as the nearly impossible prospect of catching every single wrongdoer. Rule breakers were still an annoyance to him, but he wasn't about to go around accusing everyone that might be up to something. Draco was an offender himself, breaking a big taboo in his Pureblood-supremacy family and among his fellow Death Eaters. His dating Charlotte, a Mudblood through and through, could cause his family to turn their backs on him, and the thought of that scared him. Their approval was important to him, and he would hate to lose it. But right now, he didn't want to worry about such things. He was going to see the girl he loved, and that was all that mattered at the moment.

He was going to surprise her, but he stopped before barging into the study, not wanting a repeat of what happened only a couple of weeks before. Draco lightly knocked on the study door, awaiting an answer. It was opened, and a ponytailed Charlotte stood before him.

Her face brightened at the sight of him, "Draco! You're back early!" She shut the door behind him, and wrapped her arms around him, sighing happily. "It's nice to see you."

"And you as well, Charlotte…" He buried his face in her neck and inhaled deeply, holding her tightly in return. He was reluctant to release her, and before he did, he kissed her lightly.

Smiling, she asked, "What was that for?"

He shrugged, "No reason. I just missed you, and I'm happy you're safe."

She examined his face, and asked seriously, "Is everything okay? You're not usually this affectionate when you come back from a weekend at home." Charlotte sat down, and Draco joined her on the sofa.

A fire was crackling pleasantly in the hearth, and Draco watched it as he carefully chose his words, so as not to convey his growing worry for her, and replied, "I'm fine, it was just a troublesome couple of days, as usual. What shall we do today, Charlotte?"

She had a feeling something else was on his mind, but decided to let Draco tell her on his own time, she hated to pry. "I've nearly finished with my Dark Arts homework, care to help me? If you have anything you need doing, I can help you, too, as per usual," she smiled sweetly, straightening her ponytail.

"Sure," he paused, "Don't you mean, 'Defense Against the Dark Arts'?"

"Isn't that what I said? Sorry, must have been parroting some poster I saw."

"What poster?"

"Something about class changes, they must've just gone up yesterday. I'm a little preoccupied about them, as the required classes sound a little frightening."

"What do you mean, 'frightening'?"

"Well, for starters, one is called simply 'Dark Arts', as if we can be legally taught Dark Magic in school. Dumbledore would have never allowed it, but…" she paused as a flicker of pain fleetingly crossed Draco's face, and she softened as she continued, "And then there is a class called 'Muggle Studies', but we already have that class that you can take, don't we? Why would they add another one?" she frowned, confused and a little worried.

Draco paled a bit, "Oh no…"

Charlotte was at a loss, "What? What's wrong?"

He sighed and glanced sideways at her, "The Dark Lord has been meaning to make Hogwarts a place where new followers might be discovered, and trained in Dark Magic. If they're starting these classes next term, then his plan is going into action. And that also could mean that students like you are going to be in very real danger in the near future."

"What do you mean, students like me?" she was almost afraid to ask.

Draco hesitated, looking down, "Muggle-borns."

"Why? What's going on? You know something about this, don't you? If you do, please tell me, I have to know what I may have to face," she tried not to let her voice shake.

He sighed, and said regretfully, "This weekend, while I was at the Ministry of Magic, doing some secret job or another, I saw what is known as the Muggle-Born Registration Commission."

"What is that, Draco?"

"It's a trap. Muggle-Borns are called in as if it were for a commendation, when in fact they…" Draco went on to illustrate what he saw, and what he knew about the Muggle-Born Registration Commission.

At the end of his description, Charlotte was stunned, "And they're targeting people simply because they are Muggle-Born?"

Draco nodded gravely.

They sat in silence for a few moments, and Charlotte was the one to break it, speaking softly, "How… how do you know you're being summoned?"

"You'd get a letter from the Ministry asking for you presence concerning an undisclosed manner," he turned to her, panicking, "You haven't gotten one, have you?"

She shook her head, "No, I haven't. And you say students are in danger as well?"

"Not yet. But I'm assuming next term is when they might start sending for them." Draco looked at the girl sitting next to him. He regretted speaking of this, because her once-cheerful expression had fallen into one with a hint of fear as she stared at the ground, lost in thought. He took Charlotte's hand in his, and she looked up at him, hopeful. He spoke to her in a low voice, "But, you know, Charlotte, I think you'll be safe."

She brightened a bit, "I will?"

Draco nodded, "Remember how at the beginning of the school year I asked Snape to change your school record?" When she nodded vaguely, he continued, "For all practical reasons, according to your file, you're a Pureblood witch. That's all anyone researching the students at Hogwarts will see."

She visibly relaxed, her hand becoming less tense in Draco's grip, and said, "Oh, Draco, that's wonderful. How can I ever thank you for doing that?"

"I guess it turned out to be a better idea than I expected." He smirked.

"But what of the other students?"

"I'm not sure. They'll either attend their summons, or go on the run, is my guess. My chief concern is keeping you under the radar, and close to me."

"I have no objection to that, my dear," Charlotte snuggled close to him, and wrapped her arms around his waist. Draco laughed softly, placing an arm around her protectively.

"You know, I couldn't help but picture you in the same situation as that woman, and it really scared me," he said, honestly, "So I'm going to do everything that I can to prevent such an injustice from happening to you."

"Thank you, Draco." She paused, and added, "That would explain the kiss when you first saw me today then, wouldn't it?" Draco blushed, and Charlotte continued, "Not that I minded it, it was just out of the blue. In fact, it was very sweet. And now I appreciate it even more."

"That's good. Because here's another…" Draco leaned forward, and their lips met. Charlotte giggled as he began running his fingers up and down her sides, tickling her.

"Draco," she managed, between giggles, "Draco, please! Someone might hear us!"

"What are you talking about? There's no one here but us, and these walls absorb lots of sound. If no one came to investigate all the explosive charms we practiced last year, no one's coming to monitor us simply because you're ticklish. If you don't want to be heard, simply stop laughing!"

"Oh, but… I can't help it!" she laughed breathlessly, writhing in his grasp. She finally got a hold of his hands, took them from her waist, and he let them be held tightly to his sides. Draco was amused by her little gesture, laughing as well, and waited for her to speak. She finally did, after catching her breath, "Now, Draco, we have homework that needs doing. After that we can goof off all we want."

"You're cute when you try to act serious." Draco noted, tilting his head to one side playfully.

She nudged his shoulder as she stood, straightening her ponytail, "Oh, hush. Come on now, I know you have something you need to work on." He rolled his eyes at her, feigning irritation, but she wasn't fooled, and he retrieved his homework without protest. He knew that pushing his worry about Charlotte and the Muggle-Born Commission to the back of his mind was going to be difficult, but being with Charlotte always made the hard tasks a little easier, and for that he was grateful. All he could do was hope and pray that his worries would go unsubstantiated, and enjoy her healing and pleasant company.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

"Bloody hell," Draco muttered, stealing a phrase from that loathsome Weasley boy, as he walked out of the Great Hall the following Wednesday afternoon. He was a little dazed, and he felt as though he was ready to drop.

Charlotte caught up to him easily, and when she caught sight of his drained look, she couldn't help but laugh softly, "Feeling all right there, Draco? You look as though you've been the target of an especially nasty Confundus charm."

He shrugged, uttering an incoherent grunt in response.

Laughing again, she took his hand and added, "Those N.E.W.T.s were quite a challenge, weren't they?"

Draco nodded, brought back to reality a bit by her touch, "They almost made defeating a giant look simple—trust me, I speak from experience, and they do _not_ come down easily."

"I'm sure they don't. At least they're finally over," she sighed audibly, "We only have a few days left until we're finished and headed home for the holidays!"

He flashed her a half-smile, then returned to his more serious, tired expression, as her remark reminded him of the finality of the term, and the possible ending of his time at Hogwarts. They continued down winding corridors, Charlotte silently leading her distracted beau down many familiar paths.

Charlotte noticed that he withdrew slightly at her comment, which sparked her curiosity, and changed topics, "So, shall we do something to celebrate? We haven't been to Hogsmeade in ages, it seems. What say we stop into the Hog's Head for a steaming mug of butterbeer? I know it would do me a wonder of good, what with all this cold weather and stress. How does that sound to you?"

They had stopped, and Draco registered their location, very near the entrance to Slytherin house. He caught Charlotte examining his face silently and with some concern, and he suddenly remembered her question about the Hog's Head Pub. Smiling at her, Draco finally replied, "A trip to Hogsmeade sounds perfect."

"All right," she said, "I need to go change out of these robes, so drop your things off, then meet me at the main entrance. Don't get lost along the way!" Teasing him, she planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Draco couldn't help but blush a bit at her warm touch. He watched absently as she left his sight, and then turned to go to the dungeon-like Slytherin commons. As he took the stairs to the boys' dormitory, Goyle followed behind him, calling Draco in his drawling voice. Ignoring him, Draco proceeded to put his quills and books away and prepare for his evening out, conjuring a small mirror and making sure his clothes looked nice and that his perfect hair wasn't too disheveled from the stressful and long ordeal of the multple N.E.W.T.s that day.

"You think you did all right on those exams, Malfoy? I'm not so sure, I never was good at examinations." He spoke, worry showing through his bumbling, haughty manner. When he noticed Draco's preening, he asked, "What are you doing?"

Snorting, Draco retorted, "Is it wrong for me to care about how I look?"

"Well, no, I guess not, but…"

"Then leave me alone. I have somewhere to be tonight, and I need to look at least a little presentable," taking one last look at himself, he nodded, satisfied. "Now if you'll excuse me…"

Goyle got out of his path, and looked after him, curious and a little bit confused. He asked the blonde-haired boy, "What, do you have a date or something?"

"What business of yours is it where I'm going on a crisp Tuesday evening, Gregory?" he quipped quickly, unable to completely hide the slight redness that crept into his cheeks at the mention of a date.

"None," Goyle conceded, not picking up on Draco's blushing, "See you 'round, then, Malfoy."

Draco walked purposefully to the front door to the school, eager to make the most of the night. He tried hard not to think about how he might not get to see Charlotte again for a while. She stood in the front courtyard, pawing the ground in anticipation, as he had often seen her do when she transfigured into a horse. He took in her outfit: a faux fur-trimmed jacket, her green scarf, and jeans, which ended in tall, warm, fur-lined winter boots. Her hair was up now in a neat ponytail, as opposed to being in a messy, slept-in braid down her back all that day. Sighing, he realized that Charlotte probably had been up most of the previous night studying for the exams they had just finished. Draco's spirits were lifted at how pretty she looked, even if she wasn't that dressed up, and he hoped he looked acceptable. When she saw him, her face lit up, and once he reached her, they walked off the grounds down the road to Hogsmeade, arm in arm.

At the Hog's Head, each ordered a butterbeer, and Charlotte sighed with pleasure as the warmth spread through her. Draco drank his as well, and tried to enjoy the evening, but he couldn't match her energy, as preoccupied as he was about his uncertain future.

"Draco? Are you feeling all right? You seem a bit out of sorts," she eyed him with unease.

Draco smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, "I'm fine." He looked into her eyes, thoughtful, and said with a faint sad tone, "We never had that blasted picnic of yours in the Forbidden Forest, did we?"

"Well, we can do that when we come back from the holiday next term." Charlotte assured him.

"Maybe," he said, in a downcast tone.

She continued, hiding her curiosity at his odd answer, "Besides, we need better weather to do something like that. And I don't know what you have against the Forbidden Forest, it really is a lovely place!"

Rolling his eyes, he sighed, "Of course you would think that of the most dangerous place for students on Hogwarts campus. Maybe it's nice in the daylight, when there aren't any life-threatening centaurs, ogres, or who knows what else around to rip your head off." Draco teased, but it wasn't as biting or playful as far as his usual teasing went.

They finished their butterbeers, and, sufficiently warmed up and in a good mood, headed back to Hogwarts. On the way, Charlotte kept looking at Draco, one question burning in her mind, begging to be asked. Finally, she took a deep breath and tried to approach it nonchalantly.

"Hey, um, Draco? Are you hiding something? You keep giving me one-word, ambiguous responses, and I don't think your mind is all here at the moment…" she trailed off, worried. "What's going on?"

Unable to resist her concerned expression, Draco slowed them down to a stop, and looked up at the starry sky. "I… I may not be coming back next term."

He took her silence as a bad sign, and he braced himself for the worst. When she finally replied, he was relieved at how evenly she spoke.

"What do you mean? Why wouldn't you be returning?" her slightly apprehensive expression betrayed her concern.

Glancing about nervously, Draco waved his wand and muttered, "_Muffliato_." When he was sure that no one who passed them would possibly hear the conversation, he explained his predicament to Charlotte, who listened with a slightly uneasy look on her face. She nodded when necessary, and uttered the normal sounds and words of recognition, but didn't know exactly how to respond when he finished.

She nodded solemnly, finally speaking. "And if you don't come back, what'll that mean for us? What of that Muggle-Born Commission?"

"I'm not about to abandon you, Charlotte. If events do transpire so that I don't attend Hogwarts next term, I'll be sure to see you as often as I can to make sure you're safe—arranging times and places to meet, and means to communicate with you otherwise. My promise to protect you will still hold true, I'll simply be absent for a bit." He tried to reassure her, and she appeared receptive, but she still was worried.

"What if you get hurt out there? I mean, if any of the horrific things you've described to me are true, then who's to say you won't get in some sort of trouble? What if you were… Oh, I don't want to think about it!" she muttered, her voice rising in tune with her concerns, and he quieted her with a gentle squeeze of her hand.

He brought her closer, to calm her, and muttered, "Don't worry about me, Charlotte. I should be the one concerned about you. What with the Death Eaters running around Hogwarts and the—"

A passing fourth year boy, who had noticed their impassioned exchange, started intruding on their conversation, unknowingly 'poking the dragon(or bear, take your pick)', as it were. He nudged his friends and motioned to Charlotte and Draco, whistled, made suggestive pantomimes, followed by a jeering call. "Get a room, lovebirds! The snow's going to start melting! In fact, I bet y—"

Already on edge, Draco spun to face the culprit of the rude interruption, his eyes steely, and growled, "_Stupefy!_" The boy was sent flying from where he stood and audibly collided with a nearby snow bank, rendering him unconscious. His friends looked shocked, and one took a wary step backwards. Without further regard, Draco turned his back on the scene, took Charlotte by the arm, and led her to a more private venue to continue their conversation.

Shocked, if not the least bit amused, Charlotte suppressed a laugh at his outburst, following him without question. Once they were a comfortable distance away from prying eyes, she let out her pent up laughter, earning her a questioning glance from her white-blond-haired beau. Reining in her amusement, she managed, "What was all that about? Not that he didn't deserve to be taught a lesson, but…"

Tossing his head, Draco replied smoothly, "I despise insolent little delinquents who muddle up a nice moment. Why? Do you have a problem with my methods?"

She shrugged, "I would suggest something more along the lines of ignoring the jeers or a carefully timed dagger-like glance, but your way is apparently just as effective, _mon amour_. Besides," she said, tentatively grabbing each of his hands in hers, "he was ruining our moment." Smiling devilishly, Draco brought her close, placed his hands on either side of her waist, and kissed her.

"But the fact is, Draco…" Charlotte whispered when she broke the kiss, "you can't always act so superior."

"And why not?" he demanded, his tone half-serious and reflecting how conceited he came across to everyone but her.

"Because you can be an 'insolent little delinquent' yourself sometimes. I'm sure you've had your fair share of moment-squashings and mischief-making. I've seen some of it, in fact, and might have called you such before I got to know you better."

"Oh, shut up." Draco rolled his eyes and playfully pushed her away, only to pull her back into his embrace once more.

* * *

A few days later, on the Hogwarts Express, Draco was content as he leaned his head on something soft, which smelled of subtly fragrant perfume. He nearly dozed off, when his pillow shifted underneath his cheek and spoke, gently.

"Draco?" the familiar voice called softly.

"Mmh?" he replied sleepily, lifting his head from Charlotte's soft hair.

"Since your home is, well, serving as headquarters for a group of rather questionable individuals," Draco had to smile at her description of Death Eaters, as she went on, "I'm assuming your family isn't hosting their annual ball this year? I mean, you haven't mentioned anything about it, but that doesn't mean you…" Charlotte trailed off, starting to get flustered and sitting up straight, suddenly regretting asking in the first place.

"No, not this year. The necessary notifications and excuses were distributed ages ago. It appears that the holidays will pass by uncelebrated under the domain and presence of You-Know-Who." Draco stretched and sat up, reassuring her with a yawn. He was surprised at how down he felt about the impending lack of celebration, as he usually dreaded the annual festivities. Glancing at Charlotte, he realized she was downhearted not because of the ball's cancellation, but because he probably wouldn't see his girlfriend over the holiday. Possibly longer, but he didn't want to think about that.

He was delighted by what she said next, "Well, if that's the case, I was wondering... would you care to join me for my family's Christmas? You know, I could play host this year, return the favor?"

He was quiet for a moment, imagining what it could be like, spending time with her family. She searched his eyes, biting her lip in anticipation, and when she started looking downhearted, Draco replied, "I would rather enjoy that, I think. I will have to clear it with Mum & Dad, but if they agree, I'd be happy to come."

Pleased, Charlotte briefly, enthusiastically, brushed her lips against his. She giggled at the surprised look on Draco's face, and snuggled back into his embrace for the rest of the trip.

They neared the station at King's Cross, and said their goodbyes ahead of time, to keep their increasingly conspicuous relationship as secret as they could. The two reluctantly disembarked the train, with the promise to keep in touch about Charlotte's Christmas party, and to see each other soon.

As they parted ways, Charlotte still couldn't suppress her worry, so she called his name again, and when Draco turned to face her, curious, she spoke nervously. "Promise you'll tell me the moment you hear your parents' decision? I mean, if you don't mind…" she trailed off, sorry to have brought it up again.

His face softened, and he smiled warmly at her, "Of course, Charlotte. You'll be the first to know." He longed to hold her, to replace the strand of hair that lay askew on her face, but Draco's mother was waiting for him just in the line of sight. He couldn't let her know about how much he cared about Charlotte, not yet. With a nod and a hopeful smile, Charlotte left him to go to her parents, who were happy as ever to see her. He trailed off to his mother, where she stood, apparently put out by the fact that she had to put up with all of these people milling about while she waited for her son.

They arrived at Malfoy Manor, just as it began to snow, and as they entered the front hall, Narcissa spoke up, brushing the white flakes off her traveling cloak. "Draco, son, your father and I need to see you in the drawing room. It's about this Hogwarts business of yours." Drawing himself up, Draco followed his mother, awaiting his judgment.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

"Draco, son," Narcissa began, once all three of them were comfortably seated, "your father and I have discussed this issue of Hogwarts and whether you will be continuing your education there this next term extensively in these past weeks, and we've come to a decision. Lucius?" She placed a hand on her husband's shoulder, indicating for him to continue.

Clearing his throat, Draco's father spoke in a weak, almost hoarse voice, "When we consider how quickly the Dark Lord is gaining momentum and gathering ever more followers, we've been discussing where you would be a more valuable asset to him, and we think that you—"

"In my defense, I've been working hard all term, and I don't deserve to be cooped up in here when I can be just as effective as a Death Eater in Hogwarts, where I…" he stood up and retorted, but trailed off when he saw the startled looks on his parents' faces.

"Draco, you mustn't interrupt, you didn't let us finish," Narcissa scolded her son, who averted his eyes, embarrassed. When Draco looked back up, he glanced at his father, waiting for him to continue.

Lucius, pleased with Draco's contrition, added, "As I was saying, we have decided you will be returning to Hogwarts to attend another term. The Dark Lord is slowly but surely taking over the school, and every agent he has on the inside is an invaluable advantage."

Draco had to try hard not to betray how pleased he was with this outcome. He aptly covered it, however, with an appropriately formal response, "Thank you, Mother and Father. I will make the most of my time at school, and be sure that I am still useful to the Dark Lord and to you." As he stood and began to leave, his enthusiasm was threatening to bubble over, and a thought occurred to him: why not make the most of when his parents are being so flexible? He turned as his hand rested on the doorknob, and inquired, "Mum? Dad? Can I ask you something?"

"What is it, son?" Lucius spoke softly, as he so often did lately. Draco had noticed over time that his father's voice rose and fell with his standing in the Dark Lord's eyes.

"I have been invited to a holiday party at… a friend's house. Might I notify them that I am able to attend? Since we aren't having a ball this year, after all," he attempted to come across as a calm, courteous high-class boy, rather than the love-struck teenager that he acted like when he was around Charlotte.

His parents exchanged a glance. This was uncommon behavior for their son, as he usually detested spending time with others besides the sons of Crabbe and Goyle. They were curious, and spoke as such.

"Whose holiday party is it?"

"Miss Charlotte LaRocque. You met her at the Ball last year, Mother."

"Ah yes, I do remember her: excellent manners, a pretty face, and a stunning dress. I'm sure you would have liked her, Lucius." Narcissa pondered aloud, deliberating. Sighing, she replied, "It's fine with me if you go to her party, as long as you behave honorably, and don't disgrace the Malfoy name in front of her guests. Lucius?"

Completely comfortable accepting anything his wife said, he nodded, "Of course, it's all right with me as well. Make us proud, Draco."

"I will. Thank you, Mum and Dad." He began exiting the drawing room when his mother called again.

"Oh, and Draco! Dinner is in an hour!"

"Whatever you say, Mum!" he replied enthusiastically, while not actually having heard what she said. His mind was on other matters, specifically letting Charlotte know this very instant that he would be able to attend her Christmas party and that he couldn't wait to see her. He would put off telling her about returning to Hogwarts, because he wanted to see her face when she got that news. He conjured a phone, and dialed Charlotte to accept her invitation straightaway.

* * *

When Draco awoke on Christmas Eve morning, he found himself in Charlotte's room, but Charlotte was nowhere to be found. Having arrived the night before to help with last minute preparations, he was going to help Charlotte and her family play host on that bright December day. He stretched, and heard that the LaRocque household was already abuzz with activity. Glancing outside, he noticed a fresh blanket of snow had fallen in the night. Dressing in the nice outfit he had brought, and styling his hair just right, he went in search of Charlotte, to make sure she approved of his appearance and that there were no more preparations that needed doing. He went to look for her, calling out, "Charlotte? Is there anything I should be doing right now? I know that you…" He trailed off as he caught sight of her.

Charlotte wore a dress he'd never seen before, this time a simpler blue one. It was fitted to her frame, the skirt billowing out tastefully at the waist and reaching to just below her knees, with white trim and silver petticoats highlighting the dress' deep blue color. Her hair was tied up in a half-ponytail with two braids, and curled most elegantly. There were sparkling snowflake pins placed here and there, as if she had just been outside in the falling snow. He was astonished at how pretty she looked.

"Ah, you look so handsome! Now if you'll…" she frowned, "Draco? Are you feeling all right? You look a little lost."

He shook his head, "Not at all, I simply think your dress is lovely." With a smile, Draco withdrew his wand and conjured a white and blue rose, which he presented to Charlotte.

She accepted it with a smile, and then said abruptly, "Oh! That reminds me- I need you to promise not to do any magic today, most of my family has no idea that I'm a witch and I'd like to keep it that way." She spoke quickly, anxiously.

Trying to make light of her discomfort, he complained, "That's not fair! You get to transfigure into a horse, and I can't even play any tricks on your little cousins." Draco crossed his arms overdramatically.

"Definitely no tricks on my cousins! And that's part of the childrens' activities you agreed to help me with. No one's going to see me transform, anyway. We have to keep the PDA to a minimum, today, too. Just like at school." She said, leaning into him slightly.

Draco feigned shock, "Now _that's_ asking too much of me! Can't I sneak a little kiss here and there? Hold your hand or keep my arm around you? I mean, we _are_ dating, why not act as such, and let everyone know we're together?"

He flashed her the winning smile she liked so much, and she sighed, "All right, but only small ones, and subtly. So: no magic today, and only the smallest signs of affection. Do we have a deal, Draco?" Charlotte held out her hand.

Rolling his eyes, Draco shook her hand, then swept her into his arms and dipped her, sealing it with a gentle kiss. When she raised her eyebrows in surprise, he laughed quietly and set her back on her feet without another word. Draco watched as Charlotte went purposefully to a nearby mirror to make sure she still looked presentable, and rolled his eyes, as she looked perfect.

"Mr. Malfoy," Charlotte's father regarded Draco affably as he straightened his tie, walking purposefully towards the coffee table next to Draco. He picked up his dark green mug, and drank, greeting the boy.

He snapped out of his reverie, and faced Frederic LaRocque, "Good morning, sir."

"Ready to be bombarded with lots of little kids and prying relatives? I've seen some of Adrian's and Charlotte's friends pass out from the difficult onslaught!"

"I… um, I think so." Draco began to fret about what the day would hold.

Seeing his unease, Mr. LaRocque assured him, "They're not so bad. And Charlotte's happy to have you here, too. She couldn't stop talking about the fact that you were coming, wondering what everyone would think of you."

He smiled and started to reply, but a knock at the door interrupted his response. Draco's anxious expression made the man laugh good-naturedly, "You had better go stand by Charlotte, 'cause the festivities are about to begin!"

Draco did as he said he would, sticking to Charlotte's side like glue, helping her with anything requiring his assistance, happy to be with her. They were very successful in keeping the cousins occupied the majority of the day. After dinner, Draco and Charlotte's "pony rides" were a big hit, and though they were curious as to why Charlotte had to leave, Draco adequately appeased them with the explanation that she was making some cocoa for them when they got back inside.

The rides all finished, and the cocoa all served to the children (made by Charlotte's mother ahead of time, and presented to everyone by Charlotte to complete the illusion), they could finally relax a bit. As they spoke with Charlotte's parents, they were interrupted by a pleasant voice.

"Excuse me, Charlotte?" an elderly woman asked, a kind smile on her friendly face.

"Yes, Grandma?" she responded sweetly.

"May I meet the young man who has been gracing us with his presence today?"

Charlotte nodded, motioning to each respective party, "Of course! Grandma, I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, Draco Malfoy. Draco, this is my Grandmother on my mom's side. She helped to make my ball gown last year."

"It's an honor, ma'am. That was your handiwork? Her dress was stunning, and many other guests complimented it that evening. In fact, I couldn't keep my eyes off her all night." He slid an arm around his girlfriend's waist at the fond memory.

"How kind of you to say. I've heard a lot about you, Draco."

"Is that so? I hope it's been good things…" he gave a bashful smile.

"Indeed, all words as to how caring and smart you are, and how much you worry about Charlotte and her safety. But she didn't tell me how charming you were!"

Draco blushed, and Charlotte muttered, mocking reprimand, "Grandma!"

Chuckling, she replied, "My apologies, love. It's good to see Charlotte so happy, and that she's found a good catch in you, Mr. Malfoy."

"Thank you ma'am. I hope I can live up to your generous praise," he looked dotingly at Charlotte, who smiled and leaned into him. Someone called for Charlotte's grandmother's help in the dining room, and she left the two in their embrace with a contented smile.

* * *

That evening, when only the adults were still up, reminiscing and swapping stories by the fireplace, Draco and Charlotte retreated to the backyard for some peace and quiet after the long day. Walking through the woods was a nice respite from entertaining enthusiastic relatives, and the two relished in the crisp, cool air, and calming silence. They paused in a small clearing, Charlotte looking up and admiring the stars, and Draco leaning with his back against a tree, thoughts wandering and eyes drifting shut in contemplation.

They stood in a pleasant silence for a bit, and then Charlotte sighed pleasantly. "What a beautiful night." She spun to face him, "You know, I'm proud of you, Draco."

Snapping out of his reverie, Draco spluttered, "What? You are?"

"You were wonderful today, and everyone loved you. I couldn't have asked for a better day."

"I think it went well, too," he couldn't suppress a yawn, "but oh, I'm so tired!"

Apologetic, Charlotte looked down at her feet, "I'm sorry if it all wore you out, my family can be a bit overwhelming. And if you didn't have a good time, then I'm…"

"No, no your family was fine. Very amusing, in fact," he smirked, earning him an eye roll from Charlotte, "I'm just not accustomed to… to everyone being so… nice. Usually it's rather tense and fake when we have family gatherings." He smiled halfheartedly as Charlotte took his hand sympathetically.

His face brightening, Draco continued, "But it was quite entertaining trying to explain to the children why you weren't with us during the 'pony rides' when you were standing right next to me. I didn't appreciate the sarcastic snorts, by the way, when I tried to explain getting into the saddle." Draco raised an eyebrow, mocking scorn.

"I know, you were a bit awkward at first, but you got the hang of it, and the kids were a big fan of your antics!" She took his other hand, clearly in a good mood.

Draco glanced at their intertwined fingers. Taking a breath, and trying to sound solemn, he spoke, "Hey, Charlotte?" She glanced up at him, her face bright. "You know how I haven't been sure if I was coming back to Hogwarts next term?" She nodded, and her expression became cautious, as she prepared for whatever he said next. Taking another deep breath, he said in an equally solemn voice, "It's been decided that, no matter how difficult it may be for my parents and for the Dark Lord, I unfortunately will be returning to Hogwarts."

Confused by his contradicting messages, Charlotte was slow to react. A smile slowly crossed her face, and she realized what he meant. "Really? You're not playing a trick on me…?" Upon searching his eyes, she saw the impish glint, and Charlotte threw her arms around Draco, kissing him quickly on the cheek and squealing in delight. Pleasantly surprised, Draco returned the embrace as she continued, "I knew it! I just knew they wouldn't keep you home. Oh, Draco, this makes me so happy!"

"No guarantees about third term, but I'll be there for the second one, unless something outrageously important happens." Looking up, he noticed they were standing underneath some mistletoe that appeared to be growing before his very eyes. "Hey, Charlotte? What's that?"

When she saw what he was indicating, she replied sheepishly, "The mistletoe around here has a mind of its own at times…" As she blushed, the vine grew even quicker.

"That can't be good for the tree…" Draco said disapprovingly, laughing to himself.

"Oh hush, I can get rid of it," she protested, and the mistletoe started to recede and shrivel.

"Hold on a moment, Charlotte. It is Christmas, after all, and what's Christmas without a little mistletoe?" he glanced timidly at Charlotte, leaned forward, and kissed her gently. She responded enthusiastically, and as the kiss deepened, the mistletoe proceeded to grow even bigger.

Draco climbed quietly into bed late that night, back in his own room at Malfoy Manor. He glanced at his bedside table once again, admiring Charlotte's gift. She had presented him with a sprig of mistletoe tied with ribbon, a piece of the enchanted vine she had saved for him, before they totally eradicated it from the tree. He smiled to himself, pleased that this was yet another Christmas made special by his dear Charlotte. As he drifted off, his last thought was of him and Charlotte lying on the snow under a starry sky, her small, graceful hand in his.


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41**

"Oh, bother! Why can't I get this right?" she grumbled, catching the attention of her beau, lazing about on a nearby sofa.

He glanced over her shoulder to see what she was doing, and groaned when he saw the piece of parchment that was more scribbles and crossed out sentences than anything, "Charlotte, what exactly are you trying to accomplish?"

"It's not as easy as you make it out to be, Draco. We all weren't born into families that practiced Dark Magic while teaching you to walk," she sighed, stymied.

Chuckling at her frustration, he reassured her, "It's fine, you're not the only one struggling, trust me. But, you do have a considerable advantage over the other inexperienced students here… do you know what that is, my dear?"

She turned to face him, frowning with impatience, "What?"

"You have a Death Eater all to yourself to give you all the pointers and secrets you'll ever need." He flashed her a sly smile, and Charlotte couldn't help but smile back.

"That's true. And a very proficient one, at that."

Nodding, he added, "Just watch, by the end of term, you'll be so talented at Dark Magic that you'll make everyone jealous of your ability."

"If you say so. It is rather more difficult than I thought, so I just might take you up on that offer sometime." She went back to her notes, twirling her wand between her fingers, brooding.

Clearing his throat after a moment, Draco spoke hesitantly. "It looks to me like you might need help _now_…" he said, motioning to her scribbled mess of notes. Sighing, she consented, and he began showing her an easier way to learn the complicated incantation.

* * *

The term was off to a running start, with new classes and new professors, and almost an entirely new Hogwarts. The school itself had an altogether different feel to it. The Ministry of Magic installed new positions for teachers who secretly or not, were Death Eaters, and taught new, required classes, such as Dark Arts, Muggle Studies (concerning why they are inferior to magical folk), and more. There was a darker, more authoritative atmosphere about the school, and even the first-years could sense that something had changed.

Draco adjusted rather easily, as he had been raised amongst witches and wizards who practiced Dark Magic and had expected this to happen eventually, but the same could not be said for most of the students, Charlotte included. The dynamics between the two shifted, as Charlotte became the student, and Draco the tutor.

He looked forward to their study sessions, and was happy to be the expert for once; however, when he saw Charlotte's anguish at some of the spells and their sinister intents, he reassured her that she would hopefully never have to put them into practice.

* * *

One evening, while Draco was happily installed in his favorite lounge chair in the study, his mind drifting off into space, a loud slam caused him to sit bolt upright, his wand raised in alarm. He audibly sighed with relief when he saw who it was, her hand still on the doorknob, "Oh, Charlotte! I feared it was Goyle or Snape, having discovered our…" He trailed off, as she appeared to be trembling. Putting his wand away, Draco went to her, concerned, "Charlotte, dear? What is it?"

"I can't-" she blurted, then took a breath, trying to sound calmer, "I can't do it anymore. That class is beyond offensive, it's… it's barbaric!"

"Which class do you mean?"

"Muggle Studies. It was interesting before, even funny at times, learning how magical folk see the world I grew up in, but now…" she fought back tears as she spoke.

Taking her by the arm, he gently brought Charlotte to a sofa and sat her down. Sitting next to her, Draco listened worriedly as she continued.

"It's always how _inferior_ Muggles are to magical folk, especially to the _pureblooded_ wizard stock. They talk about them as if they were no more than dumb animals, and that they don't have any sense of what is right or good. How am I, or the other Muggle-Borns in the class, supposed to bear such torture?" Tears trailed down her face.

Disheartened by how troubled she was, Draco desperately wanted to say something to make it all go away, but all he could manage was to place his hand upon her shoulder lightly and say, "I don't know, Charlotte."

"How can people possibly _think_ that way?" Suddenly aware of how she might be hurting Draco, she glanced at him apologetically, "I don't mean to accuse you…"

He half-smiled, conceding, "It's fine." He sighed, "I myself have no idea why. It's common thought among Death Eaters, and much of my family. That was what I always believed, until I met you. I guess not _all_ Muggles and Mudbloods are bad." He joked, earning him a playful jab in the ribs.

"And I guess not all Death Eaters are bad, either," Charlotte leaned into him, and Draco held her, rubbing her back reassuringly. He ignored the guilty twinge that came when she said that, the recurring worry that his going against Death Eater morals and values might harm them both as the Wizarding world and the Dark Lord became ever more dangerous.

* * *

Charlotte sat in the Great Hall, going through a stack of notes when she heard a loud crack from behind her, and was joined on the bench by a very drained-looking Draco. He groaned, dropped his book bag, and let his head fall into his hands, elbows resting on the table.

"Good evening to you, too." She spoke absently, her mind on her notes. She glanced at him sideways, adding, "And since when can you Apparate into the castle? I thought there was a restriction on that…"

"Snape secretly lifted it at the beginning of the year. Makes it easier to come and go as us Death Eaters please," he shuddered at the thought of the amount of Death Eaters present on the once-safe castle grounds, "Didn't I tell you that?"

"Sadly no, but it's a useful thing to know. I didn't think you'd be back until tomorrow," she continued.

"Yes, well, I guess I was only needed for the day. And what a terrible day it was!" he rubbed his eyes, and sighed.

After a moment, Charlotte finished reviewing the last page, stretching and tilting her head to face him fully, "Well, I am glad you're back early, then maybe we can… Oh, Draco! You're hurt!"

He had a cut above his left eyebrow, another cut along his jaw line, and he looked a little bruised around his right eye. "It's nothing. A few Death Eaters and I simply got into a squabble with a chimera," he brushed her comment off with a dismissive wave of his hand, but that didn't do much to reassure her, as his hand had abrasions on it as well.

Her eyes widened, "A chimera? Draco, that is _not_ nothing. Let me see your hands." To her chagrin, he shook his head, hiding his hands from her view. "Come now, I only want to help." Grudgingly, he lifted his hands from his lap and held them up for Charlotte to see. "Tell me what happened," she said, gently taking his hands in hers and turning them over, assessing the damage.

"Well, You-Know-Who has been trying to build up an all-powerful army, right? And what army of evil would be complete without a few monsters? We've got giants, Dementors, even a troll or two, but of course he isn't happy with just that, so we had to go after a flock of chimeras. That was our goal, to recruit or capture a few and use them in the future, but…" motioning to his face and body in general, he shrugged, "it didn't go according to plan, of course. What are you doing? Ow!"

"That didn't hurt! I'm just having a look." She looked over his face again, and glanced at his neck, which had a couple small scrapes, and she assumed that this wasn't the extent of his injuries. "Do you want to go see Madam Pomfrey?"

"I don't want to go the Hospital Wing! How will I explain it all?" he asked, "Tell her I fell down an enormous, rocky hill into a thicket of brambles? Or do you want to let her know that I've been palling around with Death Eaters and chimeras when I should be at school?"

"They would still help you, but I see your problem. Let me think…" she took a moment, put away her parchment and glanced back at Draco, disheveled and injured. An idea came to her, and she said, "Would you like me to patch you up?"

He raised an eyebrow, "You?"

"Yes, me! I'm not a professional or anything, but I do know a thing or two about injury. Having a doctor as a father certainly does have its advantages. And I've cared for injured hippogriffs and thestrals before, how can it be that different?"

He rolled his eyes, "Well, thanks, comparing me to such vile creatures."

"Oh, hush. I just have to grab a couple of things from my first aid kit, and I'll meet you in the study as quickly as I can. Okay?" Charlotte stood, and helped Draco up as well.

"Okay," he groaned at the pain, and was pleasantly surprised when she stood on tiptoe and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. With a shy smile, she headed in one direction, and Draco went the other.

He hobbled to the study, and sat down slowly on a chair, depositing his book bag on the floor with a thud. Charlotte arrived momentarily, and almost immediately she began cleaning his cuts and giving him cool compresses for the bruises on his face and neck. She put bandages on his hands—but not too tightly—after going over them with a cloth dipped in disinfectant salve. Draco enjoyed the attention, and liked watching her work: the determined set of her mouth, her doting, concerned eyes, and her gentle, caring touch. When she paused for a moment, he asked, a touch of worry in his voice, "What?"

"This laceration continues up your arm. This isn't the full extent of your injuries, is it?" Glancing at his forearm, Draco slowly shook his head. "Do you mind if I… take a look at the rest of this one?"

Draco shrugged, stood, and painstakingly removed his traveling cloak, with Charlotte's help. She rolled up his sleeve, and cleaned the laceration. She assumed he had more cuts and bruises under his shirts, but she was hesitant. "Is it okay, if I… examine the cuts on the rest of your torso?" Draco nodded, not thinking very much of the odd request, his mind elsewhere.

Once she rolled his sleeve back down and reached for the buttons on his dress shirt, she paused. She suddenly had butterflies in her stomach, feeling awkward about undressing her boyfriend. Sensing her unease, he frowned, and said, "What's wrong? The injuries aren't that bad." Quickly realizing why she hesitated, he added, trying to hide his blush, "And I don't… it's okay. We're the only ones here, and I'm in too much pain to think of another alternative. So go ahead."

Nodding respectively, Charlotte struggled with the tie, and he helped her undo it with an amused chuckle. He also unbuttoned his dress shirt, but needed help getting it off. Charlotte stood behind him, and eased it off of him one arm at a time. After relieving him of his undershirt, she glanced over his chest and back, and went to work, humming softly.

Draco allowed himself to be treated for another half hour, then went to the full-length mirror to see the damage. He had dark circles under his eyes, but that was normal, and he had bandages over his left eyebrow, hands, right forearm, left shoulder, and ankle (an injury she'd noticed while he was walking around, trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder at an icy cold compress she used).

"It looks like I got banged up worse than I thought," Draco said, examining his reflection. "I mean, just look at my beautiful face!"

Charlotte rolled her eyes, "Your face is just fine, Draco. And you should be good as new in a few days. The salve and spells I used should heal you quickly."

"Well _that's_ a relief," he said, still looking himself over. He suddenly stretched and yawned widely, cringing a little at the pain of his injuries.

"Finally feeling the effects of your strenuous day?" she teased.

Frowning, Draco retorted, "No! It takes more than a measly chimera to…" He turned to Charlotte, who had been absently staring at him, his toned figure still striking despite the bandages and bruises. A smirk crossed his face when he caught her gaze, and Charlotte blushed, returning to her seat a little too casually. "Something the matter?" he teased her back, taking a seat beside her.

She tried to avoid his gaze, "No, just making sure all your bandages are in place."

"I'm sure. Why, don't like what you see? I know I'm not at my best, but…"

"It's not that, I… I'm sorry." Charlotte looked down, but he gently put a hand under her chin and turned her head to face him.

"Don't be. I don't mind. Plus, you said yourself that I'll be fixed in a matter of days. Then I'll be back to my gorgeous self," he said haughtily.

She was about to give a retort, but trailed off, as she got lost in his silver eyes. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Draco leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to Charlotte's. After holding the kiss for a good amount of time, he pulled back and kissed her once more before sitting up again. Once she regained her composure, she muttered, "Oh, shut up."

Draco smirked, as he had once again won the argument. He shook his head, "I don't think I will. I think I'm going to talk your ear off, telling you anything and everything that comes to my mind."

"Whatever you say, Draco. But don't expect me to listen to it."

"Well, you're going to have to learn to put up with my annoying habits if ever you're going to be my wi–" he abruptly stopped, and upon taking in Charlotte's bewildered expression, he cleared his throat, "Enough chit-chat, I'm hungry. I haven't eaten since last night."

"As you wish. I did save you a little something from dinner, but I doubt it'll be enough. We can always make a trip to the kitchen." She stood, and started towards the door.

"But the kitchen elves hate me!"

"They do not. And besides, when they see you're with me, they'll give us more than we can eat! Come on, dear, we can talk about whether you think I could stand up to one of those chimeras." She helped him carefully back into his traveling cloak.

"You? Against a chimera? Don't even joke about that, you wouldn't last thirty seconds." Draco laughed, taking her hand and intertwining their fingers. He easily fell into step with her as they continued their banter down the deserted hallways. As they walked, Draco glanced at her thoughtfully. He was in pain, but as with the internal pain that he constantly endured as a Death Eater, being with Charlotte made it bearable, even forgettable, and for that, he was very thankful.


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42**

"Where is he?" a shrill voice demanded, "If you don't tell me, your little friend here will pay for your lack of honesty." When a loud crack of a bullwhip sounded for emphasis, someone whimpered. An incomprehensible reply came from him, and apparently that wasn't satisfactory, as the whip cracked and a cry came from his companion. A laugh came from the perpetrator, and it took her a moment to calm down enough to mutter menacingly, "Now tell me! Where is the filthy blood traitor and his wife? You were seen with them only days ago, if only you tell me where that traitor is, we can find him, and then you and your companion _might_ go free. You've done nothing but lie to me all evening, and neither myself nor the Dark Lord tolerates such deception…"

Draco tried very hard to block out the sounds of the interrogation going on down the hall. This had become a regular activity carried out by different Death Eaters, and it was one of his despicable aunt's favorite pastimes. The way she devoted herself so fully to the violence made Draco's skin crawl. He tuned out the screams and the cackling, occupying himself with schoolwork that he would much rather not be doing, thankful that he wasn't expected to partake in the interrogations.

A loud slam of the drawing room door interrupted his studying, and his aunt exclaimed, "There's one less blood traitor for us to worry about!"

"Did they tell you where he'd seen that Creevey wizard and his wife?"

"Yes, after much persuasion, and I sent some Snatchers out after them, but…" she trailed off ominously.

"Oh, Bella, you didn't kill them, did you? Not again?"

"No, Cissy, I did not _kill_ them. I got the information I needed, and then I left them there on the floor, whimpering like little mice. I'll throw them in the cellar with the rest of the prisoners in a bit. It's up to the Dark Lord to decide what to do with them now." Draco rolled his eyes at Bellatrix's indifference to their fate, and when she saw him mocking her, Bellatrix slapped the table with her free hand, making him jump. "What's wrong, Draco? Does all this talk of killing make you _queasy_?"

"Of course not! It's just a little difficult for me to focus hen there are screams coming from the next room over," he snapped at her, standing to meet her glare with one equally as piercing. Draco stood about six inches taller than her, but Bellatrix's high-heeled shoes and menacing air made up for the height difference.

Draco's mother tried to defuse the tension, speaking calmly, "Bella, please. He's just a boy, leave him be."

Bellatrix retorted, "What could he possibly have to worry about that's more important than being a Death Eater and doing what a _real_ Death Eater does?"

Before Draco could reply, Narcissa placed a warning hand on her son's shoulder, "He's still in school, sister. His studies are very important, and besides, he's studying Dark Magic."

"Good. Perhaps now he'll actually be useful, and not such a coward in the field, jumping at the slightest noise," she giggled, and Draco reluctantly tore his gaze away from his aunt, gathered his books and retreated to his room. He threw his books haphazardly onto his desk, and leaned against the windowsill, staring outside absentmindedly.

It was then that he heard the loud creaking of the front gate, indicating that Snatchers had arrived with some fugitive enemy of the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. Glancing down absently, he watched them approach, dragging two figures along in their wake. One he didn't recognize, but the colorful clothes and flyaway blonde hair on the other rang a bell. "Luna Lovegood?" he muttered, confused, "What could we possibly want with her?_"_ Draco watched as Luna and her captors until they were out of his line of vision. He listened at his open door as the two of them were sent down to the cellar, without any fuss, only a dismissive utterance from Draco's mother. He could hear his aunt protesting, but she gave in, and Luna was simply locked up without a confrontation or pointless torture.

Prisoners came and went pretty regularly in Malfoy Manor, and usually no more than ten were held at a time. Sometimes he was made aware of their importance, while at others, such as with Luna and the recently added goblin and old wand maker, he was oblivious to why they were held. He knew it was often less than appropriate to ask why; every person they caught obviously went against what the Dark Lord and his followers were up to, and he simply went along with it. That evening, during dinner, he inquired after his classmate.

"The Lovegood girl? She's the son of the editor of that wretched magazine, 'The Quibbler', filled with wretched pro-Potter sentiments, and so an enemy of ours," Lucius quipped, and a moment later added, "And she is perfect leverage to force that fool Xenophilius into handing Harry Potter over to us if he turns up. If he sees the boy and doesn't say anything to us…" Draco's father paused, dabbing the corners of his mouth gingerly with a napkin, "…we are to kill his daughter."

Draco did his best not to let his cool expression be altered by the possibility of violence towards a classmate that he had usually loathed, but he couldn't stop a quick drawing together of his eyebrows in unease. _Isn't that a little extreme? I loathe Potter, too, but Luna didn't deserve that kind of fate. And to what lengths must we go to capture Potter?_ Draco's contemplation was curious, but a hint of worry and concern colored his usually hateful thoughts about the famous Harry rest of the weekend he spent at home passed in increased unease and tension, as with the coming spring, so approached the moment of action for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his growing army of followers.

* * *

The weather was becoming more agreeable, albeit wet and temperamental, and Easter was on the horizon. It was a nice spring day, but Draco could not enjoy the changing seasons the way Charlotte obviously was. His dread was becoming unbearable as the time for Voldemort's planned attack was approaching, and Draco was increasingly absent from school and absent in his thoughts. Charlotte, as an Animagus, had gained heightened senses, to nearly parallel those of a horse even when she was not transfigured. This made all the stimuli around her even more aesthetically pleasing.

"Have you noticed that the Whomping Willow is starting to bloom already? It's early this year, isn't it?" she mused as they walked along the nearest edge of the Forbidden Forest one afternoon, taking in all the sights, sounds, and scents associated with spring new growth.

Draco merely shrugged in response. He was looking around, but the only things he saw were the horrors that he feared were approaching for him, and for the world, if the Dark Lord did end up enacting his master plan in a matter of weeks.

Charlotte asked him a few more questions, trying to engage him in conversation, but to no avail. She stopped walking and sighed, "You haven't heard a word I've said in the past hour, have you, Draco?" And when he didn't respond, she repeated a little louder, "Draco!"

Her sharp tone finally caught his attention, and he turned quickly to face her, trying to appear attentive to her. "What? Of course I have."

"What was I just talking about?"

"Well," he paused, his silence damning, "You were explaining how…uhm…"

She sighed and looked at him curiously, "I thought not. Your attention hasn't been in the here and now much lately, my dear, has it?"

He turned to her, "I'm sorry, Charlotte, I just… I have a lot on my mind, and things are getting crazy at home. I'm never quite sure of what's going to happen, or who's going to show up, or what I'll be expected to do." He couldn't hide the fear in his eyes.

To reassure him he wasn't alone in this, Charlotte took his hand in hers. She spoke sympathetically, "I know, the world is a scary place, even for Death Eaters." He didn't return the embrace, but it didn't faze Charlotte. "Hey," she said, and when he met her gaze, his silver eyes dull, she continued, "do you want to talk about it? It's always helped in the past, maybe you just need to vent a little bit."

Draco could not explain how badly he wanted to do so, but he hesitated, "I'm not sure… I don't want to put you in danger."

"That's fine. It was just a suggestion. Whatever you'd like to do, love."

Draco deliberated for a moment, and as he hated keeping all his worries inside, and Charlotte's offer made his cold, fear-filled heart a little warmer, he said finally, "Yes, I think talking would help. And… could we eat dinner in the study while we talk? It is getting rather late…"

"Of course, Draco! That sounds lovely." She let him lead the way back to the castle, the promise of food giving him some renewed energy.

A short while later, Charlotte and Draco sat in the study, the remains of their dinners on the floor in front of them. It had been a lighthearted meal, as they both were avoiding the issue for the time being. Once everything was finished, even the brownies they were given by the kitchen elves, Draco once again turned sullen.

"Now, tell me what's bothering you, Draco," Charlotte said gently, cleaning up their mess with a couple flourishes of her wand, "If you want to, that is."

He was grateful at her tolerance of his secretive life. "I haven't told you much lately, have I? Well, I've been doing a lot of stupid things for the Dark Lord, forced to allow a horde of Death Eaters infest our home, and playing babysitter to a bunch of prisoners in our cellar. It's absolutely wretched! Oh, Charlotte, I can't bear all the discomfort and fear I constantly feel, and in my _own_ home! I _hate_ it!" Tears started forming in his eyes, and Charlotte desperately wanted to wipe them away, but hesitated. Draco went on, selective about what he mentioned, but still telling Charlotte much of what was bothering him.

He did not disclose who was imprisoned or that he had an idea of what the Dark Lord's plan entailed, but it was good to get some things off his chest. Draco could not sit still the whole time he spoke, pacing at times, sitting at others. Sometimes tears fell down his face, other times he got angry, his hands clenched in fists or his fingers running through his hair in frustration, and his voice rising and falling with his emotions. But no matter what he said or how he acted, Charlotte listened as if nothing was more important to her than helping with his problems.

"…and worst of all, I thought it would be an honor to be a Death Eater, when all it's brought me is grief, dread, and the constant fear that if I fail to impress him or follow directions properly, I could be taken out as easily as any enemy to our—no, I mean _his_—cause. See? I'm even starting to talk like one of them, and I don't want that anymore. I haven't wanted that for so _long_!" When Draco finally finished, he didn't know what to do. He suddenly felt embarrassed. "I… I'm sorry for that pitiful display, Charlotte. I probably look like a nutcase to you right now. I'll just…"

He made to stand, but Charlotte placed a hand on his shoulder. She reassured him, "That wasn't pitiful, it was honest, and such blatant honesty is extremely admirable. You're going through a terrible time—we all are—and it's hard to imagine what things are like on the other side."

"Really?" he asked, skeptical.

"Definitely. It's frightening that people disappear every day, and I still fear that I'll disappear too, though I know that I'm safe thanks to you and Professor Snape. Everyone thinks Death Eaters live such easy lives, terrorizing innocent people for fun, but they have no idea that Death Eaters can live in fear, too." Charlotte embraced him, and spoke softly, "Oh, Draco. How I wish I could take all of your suffering away, or at least suffer in your place."

"I would never wish such misery upon you." Draco hugged her back, as he whispered in her ear, "You have no idea how much you're doing to ease my pain just by being here and listening to my maddening rants."

"But I wish I could do more," she sighed, burying her face in his shoulder.

"Oh, but you can…" he murmured, and when she lifted her head quickly, on guard, Draco winked at her, and Charlotte flushed bright red.

"Draco! Well I never …" she sputtered, "We can't… I mean, you…" Charlotte trailed off when she noticed how amused he was with her flustered rambling. She shoved him away, and stood up, "You are terrible, Draco!"

"I am not!" he couldn't stifle a laugh, "But your reaction was priceless!"

"Shut up," she blushed again.

"Oh calm down, I'm just joking! Now can we do something pleasant?"

"What about a game of Wizard's Chess? I know I can beat you this time!"

"We'll see about that, Miss LaRocque!" he flashed her a playfully sinister smile.

* * *

"It's only a week-long break, and then I'll see you again," Charlotte said wistfully, reaching for his hand in the crowd as they headed for the exit out of the train station.

He smiled a bit at her touch, but he couldn't quite cheer up.

"Draco, look at me."

He finally did, but his expression was guarded, as he didn't want to betray his worry at going home.

"When the week is out, we'll be back. Send me an owl every day if you want, and I'll write you, too. All right?" When she only got a distracted nod out of him, Charlotte rolled her eyes and pulled him aside, to a spot that was out of the crowd's direct line of sight. After glancing about to make sure nobody was really paying them much attention, Charlotte stood on her tiptoes and kissed Draco.

The kiss took Draco by surprise, completely pulling him out of his morose thought process. When Charlotte pulled back, he smiled gratefully down at her and pulled her close for a second kiss, this one deeper, one of his hands coming to rest on the side of her face and into her hair, the other arm snaking around her waist. They hadn't shared a kiss like this in weeks, and Draco found it very refreshing. Finally ending the kiss, Draco and Charlotte stared into each other's eyes, breathing harder than before.

"I love you, Charlotte," Draco whispered, admiring every feature on her face, especially her chocolate brown eyes.

"And I love you," she replied, a pleased smile on her face. "Do you feel any better?"

Draco nodded, invigorated. "Much better. I'll write to you over the holiday, and I'll get to see your beautiful face in only a few days."

She blushed at his compliment, looking down sheepishly. Draco placed a stray hair behind Charlotte's ear, and they departed the station.

"Are you getting picked up?" Draco asked, a bad feeling suddenly hitting him, and he worried for Charlotte's safety.

"No, I told my parents to stay home. I'm fine on my own. They'll expect me soon, I wager."

"I should probably get going, too, Mother and Father hate it when I get home late," he scoffed, trying unsuccessfully to hide his concern.

"Don't worry, Draco," she said sweetly, "We'll be together again soon. And try to have a happy Easter!"

"And you as well, Charlotte," Draco replied. With a loud crack, Charlotte Disapparated, and Draco followed suit moments later, eager to begin and finish the week-long Easter holiday so he could be gone from his miserable home and back at Hogwarts with Charlotte. He had no idea how eventful and important this Easter holiday would prove to be, and that he would be kept from Charlotte for much longer than he originally planned.


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43**

SLAM! The front door opening and a subsequent commotion broke Draco from his bored reveries, and he listened as a series of voices rang from the main level below, from the entrance hall. As the exchange continued, he tentatively went downstairs, and joined his father in the Drawing Room.

"What's going on?" he asked, frowning so as to hide his unease.

"I'm not sure, son, your mother and aunt were summoned to the entrance, probably more Snatchers who have failed to impress them." Lucius drawled, looking absently out the window.

Narcissa came in, trying to appear composed and said, "Draco, love, we need you to do something very important for us. If you'll excuse me a moment…" she opened the door for a rather disheveled group of people, Snatchers, only two of him he recognized, Fenrir Greyback, and one that he had heard called Scabior. They had three prisoners in tow, only one of which was visible to Draco at the time. His mother continued, "My son is home for Easter holiday, and if that is Harry Potter, Draco will know. They've been classmates for years!"

"What is all this?" Lucius asked, put off by the disturbance, glancing bitterly at the bedraggled bunch that was disgracing his spotless Drawing Room.

His wife replied, "These Snatchers say they've got Potter. Draco, come here." She held out her hand, motioning for Draco to come closer.

Reluctant, Draco complied, more out of fear than anything. He approached the prisoner that was put before him, a disfigured, yet slightly familiar face and figure stood before him, and he tried scrutinizing his face from a respectable distance.

"Well?" Bellatrix held the prisoner tightly, her wand up against his throat.

His father added, sounding very excited, "Is it him? Is it Harry Potter?"

Draco paused, "I… I can't be sure." He was almost too scared to look at the figure that very likely was Harry Potter. There was something on his forehead, but it could have more easily been a shadow than a scar.

His father came up next him, startling him when he placed a tense hand on Draco's shoulder, "Look closely, son!" Draco was still hesitant to say something, as Lucius continued, "Imagine, if we are the ones to hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiven! Everything will return to–"

Scabior interrupted him, "Now, we won't be forgetting who actually _caught_ him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy!"

"You dare to talk to me like that in my own house? I ought to–"

Narcissa placed a calming hand on her husband's arm, "Lucius! Of course we won't forget." She pulled her husband back to the fireplace, sitting him down.

Bellatrix's voice became sickeningly sweet, "Don't be shy, sweetie. Come over and take a good look at him." Draco came closer, and tried examining his face, deciding whether he was looking at Harry Potter—whether he actually _wanted_ to be looking at Potter. His aunt's voice was warning now, "Now, if this isn't who we think it is, Draco, and we summon You-Know-Who, he will kill us all…"

Draco's unease only increased with the not-so reassuring words from his dreadful aunt. Searching for something familiar in the person's visage, he absently asked, "What's wrong with his face?"

"Yes, what is wrong with it? What did you do to him?" Bellatrix started bickering with the Snatchers, as Draco tried to grapple with his reluctance.

Certainly he feared making a mistake and risking his life, but there was something else that was making him hesitate. Did Draco really want Potter caught? If they truly had found Potter, what would be the result? What would become of everything if he were just handed over? Would his family really be safe? Perhaps the better question was, why did a part of Draco really not want Potter to be caught? Of _course_ he wanted Potter caught, that blasted idiot had been the bane of his existence for the past several years! But did he really hate him that much that he felt Potter deserved to die?

Draco was broken out of his rather complex and rapid reverie when he was asked, "Draco, look! Isn't that the Granger girl?"

He glanced at the second prisoner, her brown, bushy hair a mess, and her usually composed face contorted with fear, and he shrugged, "I… maybe… yeah." And when inquired about the third prisoner, about whether it was a Weasley boy, he spoke, even more distant, "Yeah, it could be." He kept glancing at the first prisoner, suddenly more sure than ever that it was Harry Potter, and even less willing to turn him in.

Suddenly Bellatrix noticed a sword that Fenrir Greyback held, one that should have been in her Gringotts vault, and went even more insane. "Where did you find that sword?" she nearly screamed.

"It was in their things," he retorted, "What's it to you?"

"That sword should be in my vault! Snape put it there himself, how did you little delinquents get it?" She screeched at them, and then spoke ominously, "If that is Potter, he shouldn't be harmed. The Dark Lord wishes to dispose of the boy himself. Lock them up!"

When Narcissa motioned for Greyback to lock the prisoners up, Bellatrix stopped him, "Wait. Leave the Mudblood. I'd like to have a little chat with her!"

When Ron Weasley tried to take her place, and was struck in response, Draco had to admit he was touched by his attempted self-sacrifice, and the boy's obvious feelings for the Mudblood. Draco hated to admit he felt sympathy for the insufferable ginger, and doubt he'd have that much courage if he were in Ron's position.

Draco didn't like the wicked look in his aunt's eye, and he desperately wished that he could leave the room. He went to a window, and had to try with all of his might not to cringe when he heard the piercing screams coming from Hermione Granger, and the malicious laughter and occasional utterance of "Crucio!" from Bellatrix. He tried his best to block out all the sounds, digging his fingernails into the windowsill and trying to focus on that pain, only vaguely listening until he heard his name being called.

"A copy, is it? Draco, fetch the goblin! I need him to find out if this sword is a fake."

Draco did as he was told, and as he went to the door, spoke threateningly, though his voice shook, "Stand back and line up against the wall. Don't try anything, or I… I'll kill you!" The prisoners did as they were told, and he brought the goblin Griphook from the dungeon to the Drawing Room, where a prostrate Hermione lay, her breathing labored. A series of bloody series of gashes that scored Hermione's forearm caught his eye. He felt sick to his stomach as he saw that they spelled out "Mudblood", and Bellatrix stood beside her, dripping dagger in hand.

The goblin examined the sword, and Draco couldn't help but notice some activity on the dungeon's stairs. As Griphook was failing to tell Bellatrix what she wanted to hear, she turned back to Hermione, saying that the goblin was lucky, and he was going to live, but the filthy Mudblood wasn't going to last the night.

"Like hell!" an angry voice yelled, and Potter and Weasley came barreling up the stairs, disarming Bellatrix, and stupefying Lucius. Furious that Potter had the nerve to attack his father, Draco sprang to action, dueling with Harry, as his mother dueled with Ron, exchanging curses in close combat.

They were stopped by Bellatrix's shrill voice, "Stop it! Drop your wands, or she dies!" She held Hermione by her hair, a small dagger held to her throat. Ron and Harry dropped their wands, and Draco picked them up. "Well, well… look what we have here… it's Harry Potter!" Bellatrix nearly giggled with pleasure. "Just in time for the Dark Lord! Call him," she commanded, glancing at her nephew, and then more forcefully, "Call him, Draco!"

Draco felt all eyes were on him, and he looked from his aunt to the now fully restored Harry Potter. His eyes locked with those of his long-time nemesis, and Draco couldn't hold Harry's gaze, rather afraid and unwilling to summon the Dark Lord. Harry frowned slightly, confused as to why Malfoy, the boy who supposedly hated him so much, didn't do as he was told and turn him in to his master.

Draco glanced from the ground to his father ruefully, fear in his eyes. Lucius made to call the Dark Lord, when a creaking noise above them caused him to pause. Everyone leapt out of the way as the crystal chandelier fell to the ground and shattered, causing widespread confusion. Draco jumped out of the way, afraid, and when Harry tried wrestling the stolen wands from his grip, Draco relented without much of a fight. He was nearly sobbing, with the fear of what his failure to act implicated for him and his family.

Thinking everything was lost, he noticed Dobby, once a House Elf that served the Malfoy home, who had come to rescue oh-so-perfect Potter and his friends, and the reason for the broken chandelier. Draco watched as the house elf made a fool out of his mother and aunt, and felt resentful, angry that Potter had tricked his father into freeing Dobby all those years ago. The stupid creature declared he was free and had come to help Harry Potter, as if he were some kind of saint. Bellatrix threw her dagger at the elf, and as they Disapparated, the dagger went with them.

Once everything had calmed down, a new problem presented itself.

"Wh…what do we do now?" Lucius asked, nervous.

"What do you mean, 'what do we do'? We've lost Potter… again! The Dark Lord will have our heads!" Bellatrix nearly screamed.

Suddenly worried, Narcissa inquired, "You didn't happen to actually summon him, did you, Lucius?"

"Of course not! That blasted House Elf sabotaged my efforts."

"Good! Then maybe we won't _all_ die." Bellatrix sighed, sitting on the floor.

Draco slumped into an armchair, his mind going wild. He listened as his aunt and parents frantically tried to come up with a way to salvage this failure, and to come out with their lives intact. They decided to tell him, but to give the most vague of descriptions, for fear of what might happen if secrets were kept from him.

Bellatrix summoned the Dark Lord, as she felt she was the one most in his favor, and they explained what happened. Distracted and worried now that Potter was on the loose again, he allowed them to live, however he detained them all to Malfoy Manor, unless he called them, and they were under his most severe watch. They were very grateful to him, and Narcissa told her son as much.

Upon hearing the semi-fortuitious news, Draco was extremely relieved. He had greatly feared for his life, for those of his family, and though he was glad of their immediate safety, he couldn't make sense of his actions earlier that day. What in the world had driven him to show mercy to the one person he thought he hated? He couldn't understand why he didn't turn that stupid Potter in! He had definitely lost some confidence, but then again, he'd never been that great of a Death Eater, when it came down to it. The good in him always won over the bad, as if there was something inside him telling him whether what he was supposed to do was too hard, or wrong. Unable to figure it out, he tried suppressing his contradicting thoughts, his mind wandering to a certain Mudblood whose company and comfort he desperately needed.

* * *

After a week, Charlotte returned to Hogwarts, anxious to see her beau. She hadn't heard from him at all, but that was often the case, as he wasn't the most proficient writer, and a week wasn't really that long. As the days went on, however, she never saw him, and figured he hadn't come back. Draco had warned her that this might happen, but she still worried about him. She wanted to find out at least where he was, and so went to the headmaster's office.

She knocked on the entrance door, answered a riddle, and was admitted to Snape's office. "Good afternoon, Headmaster," she said politely.

Snape replied, "Greetings, Miss LaRocque. What can I do for you?" He set aside what he was working on, and listened calmly.

"It's a personal matter. I was wondering, Draco has been absent for the past few days, and I haven't heard from him. Do you know if he returned to Hogwarts after the Easter Holiday?"

"Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked, frowning slightly, and when she nodded, he replied plainly, "No, he has not yet returned."

She didn't know how to respond, so she simply thanked him and turned to leave, when Snape added, "Would you like to know where he is?"

"If you had that information, I would really appreciate it." She went back to his desk, trying to hide her eagerness.

Snape feared revealing too much, but the genuine worry in Charlotte's eyes gave him the impression that she knew what was going on, at least some of it, so he asked, "How aware are you of what Mr. Malfoy is doing, or is a part of?"

Taking a breath, she said, "I know quite a bit, but he says he's still keeping the most difficult and dangerous details from me. And he said that I could come to you if I feared anything."

Snape nodded, "I see. That is good he doesn't tell you everything, he need not put you in more danger. All I can say, in terms of where he is, is that something happened so that he's been detained in his home with his family, and that he's safe for now."

She breathed a sigh of relief, but she still wondered what happened that had such consequences, "Thank you, headmaster, you have no idea how much better that makes me feel. Is there any way I can contact him?"

Snape thought for a moment, "I'm not sure if that's a good idea at the moment. He's under close supervision by someone very dangerous, if you get my meaning."

Charlotte nodded, a little downhearted, "I understand."

"The best thing you can do for him right now is to stay safe yourself. I'm sorry I can't do more to assuage your worry."

"That's all right. Thank you for your time." She made to leave once again.

"Miss LaRocque?" she paused, looking back at him, and he continued, his attention back upon a series of documents in front of him, "Do be careful, I would hate to have one of my best students hurt by the likes of the Carrows again, and I don't think Mr. Malfoy would like to know that you were harmed again under my watch."

"I will, headmaster," Charlotte smiled slightly at his compliment and guarded concern, and left his office. She gazed at the majestic griffin statue that guarded the headmaster's office, and wondered what motivated Snape to look out for her and Draco. Snape had always thought she was a good student, and maybe her connection with and willingness to help Draco gave her some kind of importance as well. Whatever it was, Charlotte was glad that she could rely on Snape, and was relieved to know that, for the time being, Draco was safe.

Snape absently watched her go, and felt a slight twinge of jealousy at what Draco had: a girl who really cared about him. But, Snape wasn't about to make them suffer because of what he never had. He wasn't that cruel. In fact, it made him happy to see that they had found love in a world that was becoming so dark, and so frightening to those on both sides of the conflict. And he had bigger things to worry about, for example, running the school and its new, Dark Magic curriculum, and preparing for the Dark Lord's impending arrival.  
~


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44**

Draco was going stir crazy, cooped up in his house, with very little to occupy his time besides playing house with his parents and any other Death Eaters that happened to be around. He desperately wanted to let Charlotte know what had happened, why he hadn't come back to Hogwarts, but he didn't think an owl leaving Malfoy Manor would go unnoticed. Draco didn't want her to worry, he'd warned her that he might not come back, but he still feared what she might think. He'd written a few letters, but they lay folded up in a notebook in his book bag.

One bright morning, Draco wandered a large room in a little-used tower in the manor, practicing his Dark Magic and curses, making sure they were still sharp. He caused some things to levitate, shatter, burst into flame, explode, and still others to turn into stone, which he broke into pieces with another curse. He also made sure he still could do the Unforgivable Curses.

The Imperius Curse was easy, and he made a stray bird fly in circles pointlessly and make sudden swooping dives before letting it go free. The Cruciatus Curse was just as simple for him, as he caused a small mouse to cringe and squeak in pain. He stopped almost instantly, as an image of a cowering, cringing Charlotte at the hands of the Carrows flooded his mind. He couldn't bring himself to try the Killing Curse. He'd always dreaded it, but he knew that as a Death Eater, he was required to master it. He remembered trying, unsuccessfully, to kill Dumbledore, and the night flashed in his mind, renewing his insecurity as a Death Eater. Right as he was pointing his wand at the little cowering mouse, trying to muster the nerve to use the Killing Curse, his dark Mark writhed. Draco jumped, startled, but upon realizing the beckoning call was merely from his mother, he relaxed and complied.

"You called me, Mother?" Draco asked, joining his parents at the front steps.

"The Dark Lord requires the use of our home. We're to clear one of the dining halls. Something's happened at Gringotts bank." Narcissa explained.

The three of them went to work clearing furniture. Suddenly many wizards and goblins that Draco had never seen before arrived, apparently they had to do with what must have happened at the bank, and they were shown into the now empty dining hall. A few other Death Eaters Apparated, and stood beside the Malfoys. When the Dark Lord did appear, he strode into the room as if he owned the place, slamming and locking the door behind him. Draco and his parents, as well as Bellatrix Lestrange, remained serious, trying to appear frightening in their intensity, and the bank employees exhibited a range of emotions, from stoic and maintaining their composure to outright horrified at who was before them.

"You are probably wondering why I have requested your presence at the lovely home of the Malfoys, aren't you, goblins, wizards, squibs?" There was no response, so Voldemort continued, "I have been notified that the 'impenetrable' Gringotts bank has suffered a break-in, and you were all involved in some way or another. Who among you will tell me what happened?" The dark wizard searched the crowd, and picked out a particularly small, trembling goblin, "You! Come here…now!"

The goblin came slowly at first, but quickly hobbled over to the Dark Lord, kneeling before him. He muttered, his voice shaking, "I-i-it's the Lestrange vault, m-my Lord. Some-one broke in, and s-s-something has b-been taken from it, a…"

"What did you say?" Voldemort demanded, in a cool, furious voice, that was all the more threatening in that its rage stemmed from a cold fear. The goblin couldn't meet his gaze, and so he continued, "Say it again. Say it _again_!"

"My-my Lord, we tried to stop them… the impostors, but…"

"What impostors? I thought the almighty Gringotts had ways of identifying impostors!"

The goblin nodded, "Y-yes, but…they got past the wards and charms. A-and they broke i-into the Lestranges' vault and…"

"Who were they? _And what did they take_?" he nearly yelled, as fear rose up inside of him. _They can't have realized…_ he thought to himself.

"I-it was the P-Potter boy and t-two accomplices… They t-t-took a small, g-golden cup, my Lord…" the goblin was nearly breaking down.

Voldemort let out a scream of rage, of fear. How could the stupid boy with the scar have figured out his secret? His followers behind him began taking tentative steps backward, fearing for their lives. Voldemort, now in possession of the Elder Wand, flourished it and killed the goblin before him without another thought. Green lights flashed all across the room as others fell, succumbing to his rage for hearing about the stolen golden cup.

The Malfoys were frightened as any of them, but stood their ground, fearing what would happen if they fled, that it might be the end for them. As the commotion died down and bodies were strewn across the floor, Draco and his parents stood there, horrified at the carnage, but trying their best to hide their fear. All of the other Death Eaters had retreated and Disapparated while the Dark Lord was on his rampage of killing.

Voldemort paced the floor, stepping over bodies as he went, speaking in Parseltongue to his enormous viper, Nagini. Draco didn't know what he was saying, but knew it must have been serious, and had something to do with Potter. Draco could do nothing more than stare at the ground, and avoid looking at all the bodies, the blood strewn everywhere. His parents stood near him, as confused and frightened as he was. Narcissa followed Voldemort's path, watching him wide-eyed as he spoke softly and intensely to Nagini, and when he Disapparated with a loud _switch!_, they let their breaths out collectively, happy to be alive.

"Oh, Draco," Narcissa was the first to speak, taking her son into her arms, thankful that they were all right.

Draco didn't return the embrace, as he was still in shock, shaking slightly.

Lucius was a mess, but that was his normal state lately, and said despondently, "Look at this mess! Our lovely dining hall, defiled by this…slaughter!"

"It'll be fine, dear, we'll get the house-elves to deal with it. Within a day or two, it'll look good as new!" Narcissa tried to reassure her husband, pulling Draco with her to put a hand on Lucius' shoulder. Lucius sighed, completely flummoxed by what happened. As Narcissa went to comfort him, she released her son.

Draco, no longer able to control his emotions, fell to his knees, and tears started falling down his face. He sobbed quietly, relieved but emotionally spent. He didn't know how much more near-death incidents he could take. His mother came to his side, kneeling and placing a comforting arm across his back. Draco leaned on his mother and let the tears fall, wishing he'd never agreed to be a Death Eater in the first place.

"Oh, love, it'll be all right." His mother spoke in a shaky voice, attempting to be comforting.

"When?" Draco demanded, "When will everything be all right? What is the point of constantly putting ourselves in danger, when all we do is cower like mice before him? And what's going to happen once he's in power? Will we really be all that safe?"

"I… I don't know, son. But, this is our obligation—it has been for years—and as a family, we have to stand together. We'll come out of this, I'm sure. And once the Dark Lord's in power, he'll spare us all our duties, and…" Narcissa tried to speak soothingly, attempting to hide the shaking in her own voice.

"Really? You really think he'd do that? I highly doubt that, Mum. To him, we're probably not worth much more than subservient dogs! I'm done with this! Completely finished with all of this rubbish. I just want to go back to school, and see…" Draco trailed off, wiping his eyes. He wrenched free of his mother's embrace.

"See what, son?" Lucius asked him, concerned.

It wasn't 'what', but rather 'who', that he was longing to see. Draco shook his head, "Nothing. I'm going to bed. Don't call me for dinner, I'm not hungry." He stormed up to his room, stepping around bodies and pools of bloodt, ignoring the protests from his parents. They lacked the will to actually go and fetch their dissenting son, as they were feeling similar feelings of unease and internal dissonance.

"Lucius," Narcissa began, placing a hand on his arm, "Do you think we should go after Draco? He's rather more upset than usual."

"He'll be fine. We've both experienced such feelings, and questioning of our following the Dark Lord's cause, but our greater judgment prevails, and we return—however reluctantly—to his side where we belong." Lucius replied easily.

"But, dear, maybe he's onto something. Will everything truly be resolved and back to normal once the Dark Lord has achieved power?"

"That is what our master has spoken of," he said plainly.

"Oh, but, Lucius!" she said, suddenly very worried, "Do you believe Draco would really defect? I fear to think what the Dark Lord would do to the boy, and to us, if…"

Dismissing her thoughts, Lucius waved his hand, "The ramblings of an overdramatic teenage boy. He would never truly think of defecting, of betraying his family and the Dark Lord."

Despite his reassurances, Lucius himself was worried about his and his family's future if the Dark Lord did in fact succeed in his campaign for power. Both of them felt loyalty, but at a steep gamble for their lives more often than not, as their son had pointed out. Lucius and Narcissa, still shaken from what occurred only a few moments before, retreated to their rooms as well, careful not to step in the gore that littered the once-polished hardwood floor.

* * *

"Good morning, Miss LaRocque."

Giving him not so much as a glance, she bit into an apple.

"Charlotte, you can't possibly keep ignoring me. You're probably one of the only girls I know who can resist my charms, and I can't comprehend why. Please give me a chance!" Cormac McLaggen implored.

"Do shut up, Cormac. Begging and pleading like a fool does not become you. How many times must I turn you down before you realize that I'm not interested?" Before he could reply, an owl dropped an envelope in front of her, and she smiled, adding, "Besides, someone else holds my heart."

"What? Who could that possibly be?" Cormac frowned, looking about the Great Hall for the offender, who was stealing his potential girlfriend.

"It doesn't matter. You are _not_ the one for me, but I know there are countless others dying to get your attention. Try that girl over there," Charlotte motioned to another seventh year, who was surreptitiously staring at Cormac. Without a second thought, Cormac abandoned his pursuit of Charlotte, and went all-too-casually to sit next to the new girl. Putting Cormac out of her mind, she opened the envelope with familiar handwriting, and read it eagerly.

_Charlotte,  
I'm taking a considerable risk in writing this, but I had to let you know somehow that I am doing all right (thus far), and give you a warning. So much has happened in the past weeks. I failed once again to act in a crucial moment, and I'm amazed I'm not in more trouble. I've seen things I can't bear to talk to anyone about except you, and I hate that you are so far away. I apologize for my lack of communication, but I've had to refrain from trying to contact you until such a critical time as now. This brings me to the main reason I've written to you. I've heard talk of a coming battle of incredible proportions led by the Dark Lord. His main objective is to get to that blasted, horrid Potter boy, but since he has been on the run, it's hard to say where he will strike, but he may start at Hogwarts. And I will probably have to take part in it in some way, as much as I don't want to. Battles have never really appealed to me, so I might have to feign illness (if something like that could fool the Dark Lord, that is). Whatever happens to me just know that I love you, Charlotte. Please stay safe, I don't want to lose you. I do hope that this note is received in time, but I suppose I can't possibly know if you'll even receive it at all.  
__Yours truly, Draco Malfoy_

Charlotte read the letter a couple times through, happy to hear from Draco, but also very concerned about what the letter predicted. She glanced at the postmark: it read April 20th, nine days earlier. She desperately hoped Draco was incorrect about the impending battle. But, seeing as Draco himself was a Death Eater, and Malfoy Manor was the headquarters for the Dark Lord and his followers, she was fairly certain he knew what he was talking about, and could only wait and see what, if anything, came about.

* * *

"Draco, get up. Today's the big day," Narcissa went into her son's room one early May afternoon, throwing open the curtains.

Groaning, Draco protested, "Oh, Mum, what now? And why do you have to get me up so early?"

"It is not early, you've been napping all day. All the Death Eaters are gathering. The Dark Lord says that the attack is nearly at hand! He's returning to our home very soon, and we have to be ready for whatever comes."

Surprising both of them with his audacity, Draco retorted, "What if I don't want to fight?"

"What?" his mother said, shocked, "W-we have to, dear, it's our duty to follow the Dark Lord's orders, no matter how… frightening they might be."

"Fine. I'll be ready in a few moments. Just leave me alone," Draco said evenly. His mother exited, trying unsuccessfully to hide her worry about what was to come. Draco had only exacerbated her worry, and he knew it. He knew his parents were stuck, and that they had so much to atone for, he shouldn't blame them for their twisted, fearful devotion to the Dark Lord. He only hoped it wouldn't get the three of them killed.

Draco met with the other Death Eaters in the courtyard of Malfoy Manor. He really did not want to be there, or take part in anything to do with what might happen that day. They'd had some false alarms in the past few days, such as wrongly claimed sightings of Potter and his accomplices in Hogsmeade the day before, but something in the atmosphere was different this time. People were buzzing with news he hadn't been made privy to, and Draco saw a large, bat-like figure flapping in the sky towards them. The shape landed not too far from where Draco stood in a flourish of blackish smoke, revealing a very flustered Severus Snape.

Before Draco could go surreptitiously to him and inquire what brought him away from Hogwarts and if he'd heard or seen anything of Charlotte, the Dark Lord himself appeared next to Snape with a loud _crack_ as he Apparated before them all. He exchanged a couple words with the headmaster, and turned to the Death Eaters who awaited his commands.

"My faithful subjects," the Dark Lord began ominously, "you all know now that Harry Potter and his friends have been on a quest to destroy me, piece by piece!" This was met with a chorus of hisses and booing. Draco didn't react besides looking around nervously. He definitely didn't fit into this crowd, and he stood there shivering even though it was warm out, his aversion to the whole thing almost palpable. "And I have received word that Mr. Potter is, in fact, at Hogwarts at this very moment, searching for more to destroy, thinking he is capable of defeating me!"

The Death Eaters laughed and reassured him that no boy as weak as Harry Potter could defeat the Dark Lord.

Pleased with the response, the Dark Lord announced, "Let us gather all of our allies. We're going to need all of them to ensure that we are able to penetrate the powerful barriers they no doubt have put up in their futile efforts to stop us. Now, my devoted Death Eaters, it's time to bring Hogwarts to its knees!"

The crowd erupted into a cacophony of cheers, and no one noticed that Draco's efforts were only partial, so that he wouldn't get called out as acting disloyal or unenthusiastic about the imminent bloodshed. He glanced around, seeing and clearly hearing his crazed Aunt Bellatrix, laughing her maniacal cackle as she stood next to the Dark Lord, and he saw his parents were cheering as well. Snape looked stern, as usual, maintaining his severe persona. Draco and the headmaster exchanged a brief look, but the concern in his eyes was fleeting, and Draco was unsure what his agenda really was. With a sigh, Draco decided to play the part, despite the bitter taste of dread that coated his mouth. He allowed the aloof, haughty façade to return to his handsome features, hiding his deep trepidation at the thought of his dear Charlotte getting hurt or even killed in this battle against Hogwarts. As he took on the persona of the threatening and cruel Death Eater, he held onto the love he knew he shared with Charlotte to keep him from sinking forever into the darkness.  
~


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45**

Bright, firework-like explosions went off as the army of Death Eaters cast countless curses, trying unsuccessfully to break the powerful barrier that had been put up to protect Hogwarts castle. Draco merely watched, formulating his plan: he was going to find Harry Potter if he could, and hand him over to the Dark Lord. Draco hoped of a Malfoy presented him with the ultimate prize, it would clear his family's name once and for all. He kept telling himself that no matter what he would _not_ falter this time. He had failed as a Death Eater so far, maybe this one chance could convince his parents and the Dark Lord that he was capable of it, even though it was all an act he hated putting on. Draco realized that it might be difficult to apprehend Potter, but he shook his head and pushed his growing worry deep inside of him. _Just one step at a time_, he thought, taking a calming breath.

He was startled when, at the front of the mass of Death Eaters and other monsters, the Dark Lord suddenly cast a powerful spell with the Elder Wand. The brilliant bolt was like all of his followers' curses combined, and the barrier shattered, red-hot cracks rippling through it. Pieces started floating to the ground like burnt paper.

Voldemort ordered his followers to charge, and Draco took the opportunity to Disapparate, reappearing inside Hogwarts. People were racing about in all directions, and so no one noticed Draco appear out of thin air. He began his search for Harry Potter and his annoying little friends, but two familiar faces caught his eye instead, and he maneuvered through the crowd, grabbing them by their collars.

"Hey! Lemme go!" Goyle yelled as he was dragged out of the crowd. He faltered as he turned and saw Draco, also holding a slightly shocked Blaise in his other hand. They allowed themselves to be guided out of the crowd.

"Malfoy! Where have you been?" Goyle asked, still very confused.

Blaise added, "You-Know-Who is attacking the castle!"

"Why do you think I'm here?"

"Well, why'd you grab us? We were off to… see if we could… um…" Goyle bumbled, not wanting to admit he was trying to escape.

"Oh, can it, Goyle." Draco started off again, scanning the crowds and forcing the two to almost run to keep up with him, "I need you two to help me. If we turn in Potter, we're all likely to get rewarded, and get back at the bloody fool for all the grief he's caused us. Now come on!"

The three of them searched the corridors, and suddenly Draco came to a stop right behind a corner, just out of sight of his prey, causing Goyle and Blaise to nearly trip and fall flat on their faces with his sudden halt.

"Malfoy!"

"What was that f—"

Draco silenced them, "Quiet! I've spotted him." He smiled as Potter and his accomplices went into an all-too-familiar place. When the coast was clear, Draco muttered, "Come on!" to Blaise and Goyle, who ran after him. Pausing at where a door had once been, Draco concentrated on the Room of Hidden Things, where he'd spent countless hours perfecting his Dark Magic. The door reappeared, and he motioned for his accomplices to follow him inside.

Listening carefully, they followed the sounds of objects being moved and the voices of Ron, Hermione, and Harry muttering something about Horcruxes and a diadem of some sort, that it should be in here, and if it wasn't…

Draco, Blaise, and Goyle walked slowly up behind one of the three troublemakers, Harry himself looking at something with obvious interest, and reached for something that glinted in the light.

"Hold it, Potter." Draco spoke purposefully, his borrowed wand pointed at the dark-haired boy. "What brings you here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Harry slowly turned to face Draco.

"I practically lived in here all last year, I know just how to get in." Trying to keep his wand at eye level and not betray his nervousness, he said, "You've got something of mine, Potter. I'd like it back."

"Why? What's wrong with the one you've got there?"

Draco shrugged, "It's my mother's. Powerful, but it's not the same. Know what I mean? Give it back now, Potter."

"I won it fair and square, Malfoy, and…" Harry paused, something occurring to him. He added, curious, "Why didn't you tell her? Bellatrix, I mean."

Draco hesitated, his wand faltering a bit, and his façade crumbling. His brow furrowed as he was reminded of that awful day during the Easter holiday when his resolve failed him.

"You knew it was me… but you didn't say anything." Harry pressed on, reaching into his pocket.

Blaise frowned, "What's he talking about, Malfoy?"

"Come on, Draco. Don't be a prat, get him!" Goyle edged him on.

Draco didn't know what to say, or how to act. Called out on his little act of mercy on Easter break, the conflict inside of him arose like a sour taste in the back of his mouth. He started to lower his wand a little, starting to reconsider his actions and how he truly felt about this whole business.

Taking advantage of his lapse in focus, Harry brought out his wand. At this, Draco's anger flared up again. _Threatening me with __my_ _wand? I think not!_ His uncertainty vanished, as he knew Potter would only bring him more misery if he spared him again. "Don't you dare, Potter," Draco's voice wavered.

"Who are you talking to, Harry?" Ron came around a corner of one of the enormous mounds of junk that made up the room, Hermione close behind him. Upon seeing the three idiots, they too raised their wands.

It was then that Hermione yelled, "_Expelliarmus_!"

Draco dodged the spell, and, realizing that he really didn't have the situation under control, and his plan was backfiring, took the opportunity to back away from the impending confrontation.

Goyle frowned, "Stupid Mudblood! _Avada Kedavra_!" The poorly cast curse missed Hermione, instead an armoire she stood near exploded as the spell made contact. She shrieked in surprise.

"Blast it all, Goyle!" Draco shouted, "The Dark Lord wants him alive!"

"I wasn't trying to kill Potter! And besides, I don't take orders from you, Malfoy, your parents are finished, and so are you!" Goyle retorted. Draco glanced warily at Goyle, surprised at his impudence. The three boys started to run away from Harry, Ron, and Hermione. An enraged Ron chased after the three boys, yelling angrily after them to leave his girlfriend alone.

When Draco heard Goyle cast a dangerous spell from behind him (one that Draco himself could barely control), he began to panic. They all slowed as the space around them grew very hot, and Blaise and Draco looked on in horror as Fiendfyre began to consume the piles of junk on either side of them, the flames taking the form of various menacing creatures.

Ron uttered an alarmed noise, and ran the other way, screaming to Harry and Hermione to run, and that "Goyle's setting the bloody place on fire!"

Draco saw that Goyle definitely did not have a handle on this curse, and so ran as quickly as he could the other direction, Blaise and Goyle on his heels. They all raced blindly about the enormous room, trying to stop the Fiendfyre with spells as they ran, to no avail.

Unable to avoid the Fiendfyre on the ground, the three Slytherins clambered up one of the mountains of antiques, trinkets, and forgotten junk. Goyle grabbed a chair that was about to fall, and as it dislodged, he fell into the jaws of a Fiendfyre dragon. Draco watched in fear, and crawled more quickly up the mountain, slipping as things fell out of his grasp, but kept his grip and made it clumsily to the top of the enormous pile.

Glancing about for some way out of this death trap, he saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione on brooms. No matter how much he hated them, and hated appearing vulnerable in front of his nemeses, Draco desperately wanted their help. Bending over to catch his breath, Draco lost his footing and slipped, grabbing a table leg that stuck out from the pile before he too fell. Holding on for dear life, he whimpered, trying fruitlessly to clamber back up. He then saw Harry Potter coming towards him on his broom, a hand outstretched for him to grab.

Draco reached, and missed him on the first pass. Panicked, Draco looked about anxiously for any sign of Potter, praying that he would come back. He heard the Weasley boy yell something, and suddenly his hand grasped another and he was pulled onto the broom behind Harry.

He glanced back, and saw with some relief that Hermione and Ron had grabbed Blaise, too. They dodged fire-creatures as they went, and suddenly Harry did a hairpin turn and dived.

"The door, go for the door!" Draco pointed frantically, but Harry ignored him. "What are you doing, what are you doing? The door's that way!" Malfoy nearly screamed, alarmed, holding tightly onto Potter.

Harry leaned down, and picked up something that glinted very near the floor and veered up once again before a Fiendfyre serpent could engulf them. They flew towards the door as fast as the broom could carry them, Ron, Hermione, and Blaise nowhere in sight. Draco hoped that the door was open, as he had left it, and as the air around them swarmed with fiery monsters, he was overwhelmed when cool air struck him.

* * *

The two tumbled off the broom, Draco coughing violently. Draco was extremely grateful to Harry and his friends for saving him, but he was too shaken (and rather too embarrassed) to say so. He was coughing too hard to say anything anyway. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he assessed the situation. Glancing back, he saw the three Gryffindors stab and consequently kick what looked like a tiara into the fire-filled Room of Requirement, a deadly-looking black smoke oozing from it. The Fiendfyre exploded when the smoking tiara came in contact with it, burning with an even more menacing fervor. Draco ran faster, not caring where Blaise had gone, and not even thinking about the fact that he had seen one of his "friends" die. All he could think of was his own self-preservation as he ran, trying to find safety in the battle-ridden castle.

As he sought a place of refuge, he avoided most conflicts, flashing his Dark Mark when necessary, but on his way down a flight of stairs, he bumped into a Death Eater he'd never met on a landing. His mask was unfamiliar, and Draco assumed he didn't speak English by his lack of response to his pleas. The big Death Eater turned on him and cornered him, grabbing him by the shoulders. Draco was unarmed, the Death Eater having knocked his wand out of his grasp and it lay at his feet.

He kept saying, every time more frantically, "I'm Draco Malfoy! I'm Draco, I-I'm on your side! Please!" He reached to pull up his left sleeve, but the Death Eater caught him by the wrist, twisting his arm painfully.

Suddenly, the big Death Eater was off him, Stunned by an unseen assailant. Draco searched the area for his rescuer, smiling incredulously, when someone landed a nasty punch on his mouth. He fell backward onto the Death Eater that had just been tormenting him, looking about bemusedly.

A voice called out from nowhere, "And that's the second time we've saved your life tonight, you two-faced bastard!" Draco's heart sunk a little when he realized it was Ron Weasley's voice calling him names. Potter and his friends had, unfortunately, been his saviors twice in a single night. He was sure to not let his features betray the odd feeling of being indebted to people he detested. Draco put a hand to his mouth, which felt oddly wet, only to find that he was bleeding. Sighing, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, picked up his mother's wand, and continued down the flight of stairs.

He finally found a small, unused office or classroom behind a series of winding corridors, out of sight. He sat down on a bench heavily, and the shock of the whole night suddenly hit him. Silent tears began to fall down his face. Had he really helped bring about all of this fighting, by his being involved in a group serving the Dark Lord? He buried his face in his hands and sobbed unabashedly.

After a bit, Draco thought he heard the sound of approaching footsteps among the booms and crashes throughout the school, stood, and pointed his mother's wand at the ready. Wiping his face and trying to keep it together, he blindly cast a curse at the door as it slowly opened, and cringed as it was blocked.

He straightened again, staring fearfully at the half-open door, ready to cast another spell, when a soothing voice called, "Whoever you are in there, I don't want to hurt you… I'm merely looking for those who are wounded or need help… Draco, is that you?"

Draco was taken by surprise when he saw the source of the voice, and his heart leapt at the astonished smile that crossed her face. He stared at the girl who stood before him; amazement and relief swept over him like a cool ocean wave. He had feared she was hurt, or worse, dead. For a moment, just a brief moment, he felt nothing but the delight that his dear Charlotte was alive, and then his knees buckled beneath him. He wavered on the edge of consciousness for a few seconds, and then the world went black.  
~


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46 **

_Smash_! Glass shattered, and she cried out in fear as she ducked out of the way of the curse. She cast a spell blindly, and the man pursuing her laughed at her poor aim. It was clear that she was losing the duel against the Death Eater, as all of her efforts to counter his onslaught had been met with easy resistance. On top of it all, she was running out of hallway to escape to. She tripped and found herself cornered, her wand skittering just out of reach. She could hear the battle happening all over the castle, and wondered how many had died so far. Why hadn't she escaped when she had the chance? What had made her think she was ready to fight Death Eaters? Cowering and shutting her eyes tightly, she waited for the inevitable sting of an Unforgivable Curse, worst of all the painful and quick Killing Curse.

She felt no such sting, instead hearing the laughter of her assailant cut off by a loud crash. Opening her eyes slowly, Astoria Greengrass peered about, hesitantly surveying the scene. She was amazed by what she saw. The Death Eater who had been chasing her was out cold, stone from the nearby wall crumbled atop him. Standing over him was a familiar figure, her dark hair up in a messy ponytail, her profile standing out in the flickering torchlight of the shadowy corridor.

"Y-you? What are _you_ doing here?" Astoria stuttered, flustered.

Straightening, appraising her work, Charlotte LaRocque glanced at Astoria, "What are you talking about? I just saved your… Oh, of _course_ it's you, Astoria."

"What do you mean, 'of course' it's me?" she tried to fix her hair, straighten her dress.

"No reason," she shrugged, hiding a smile at the memory of their last meeting.

"Well, about earlier this year… I had no idea that he… that you… that you two were an item when I began my… pursuit of Mr. Malfoy." Astoria spoke defensively, still obviously embarrassed.

"Don't worry about it, no harm done," Charlotte said easily, dismissing it.

"I just don't get it," Astoria whined, completely forgetting the sticky situation she just got helped out of.

Charlotte sighed, impatient, clearly wanting to see what else she could do to help the battle, "What is it now, Astoria?"

"I simply can't figure out why Draco would prefer someone like you over me! He snubbed me—_me_! A pureblood, wealthy, beautiful witch, for someone so… plain!" She looked Charlotte up and down, and hated how even though her clothes were smudged with ash and other things, she still looked pretty. And her composed, determined expression coupled with her powerful magical abilities made Astoria even more jealous.

Exasperated at how shallow Astoria really was, Charlotte took a moment to phrase her response so that she didn't sound rude. She redid her ponytail, recapturing some stray strands, and said, "There's more to people than their pedigree and money, Astoria." Making doubly sure that the Death Eater was incapacitated, she conjured ropes that wrapped around the Death Eater and tied themselves securely about his limp figure. "Maybe you're just not his type!"

"Well, what is his type? Why did he pick _you_ out of all the girls he could have?" she implored, as if her life depended on it.

"I don't know, he hasn't told me." Charlotte shrugged, "Maybe it's something about my personality. But I do know that he doesn't care as much about bloodlines as you might think. We are in fact dating despite the fact that I am Muggle-Born."

This remark left Astoria speechless. Seeing Astoria in this state, her mouth hanging open like a frog, made Charlotte want to laugh. Before her composure broke, she turned tail and walked away, calling behind her, "You're welcome for saving your life, by the way!"

Once she was out of earshot, Charlotte laughed aloud. Then, she shook her head, clearing it and getting back to the task at hand: searching for those who were in need of any sort of help. She guided some people towards the Hospital Wing, recruiting some younger individuals who hadn't escaped before the onslaught began to escort them through hidden routes in the castle.

As she was walking through an oddly deserted corridor, she heard a soft whimpering noise. She paused, closing her eyes and allowing her acute sense of hearing to guide her to the source. She heard it again, noting the distress in the voice, and followed it down a series of winding halls. She paused at the entrance of the long-unused room, as the sounds had stopped.

She was suddenly aware of a curse being cast at her, and she blocked it, her heart pounding. She called out in the gentlest voice she could, "Whoever you are in there, I don't want to hurt you. I'm merely looking for those who are wounded or need help, and I…" She trailed off as she walked slowly into the room, as what she saw struck her silent.

Standing before her was a familiar tall, gaunt, pale-blond-haired figure, staring fearfully in her direction. An astonished smile crossed her face, "Draco? Is that you?"

Draco broke out of his fearful gaze, and he took Charlotte in, a look of extreme relief crossing his face. He even started to smile, but he suddenly lost all color in his face, swayed on his feet a bit, and then collapsed, having fainted.

She froze for a moment, alarmed, and then knelt beside him, "Draco? Draco!" Charlotte took him into her arms and held him close, cradling his head and torso. He lay limply in her embrace, his head leaning on her shoulder. His pulse was faint, and Charlotte fought back tears as she stroked his hair with her free hand and spoke softly, "Draco, please! Please, come back to me…"

* * *

Draco was vaguely aware of being surrounded by warmth, as he drifted in and out of a state of fuzzy obscurity. His mind flashed in and out with various frightening images: laughing Death Eater masks… his parents looking fearful and disappointed as though their failure of a son had signed their death warrants… his frighteningly crazy aunt laughing as the Dark Lord killed hundreds of students… Fiendfyre dragons consuming students and Death Eaters alike, along with his parents and the late Gregory Goyle… the Dark Lord himself coming to take Draco down with them in the flames… and then a brilliant light cut through the dark, scary images, pulling him out of the fog like a warm hand.

"Please… please Draco… don't leave me…" he heard, and the familiar voice brought him comfort. He tried to lift his heavy eyelids, letting her reassuring tone of voice ease him back into reality, although it was nearly as frightening as his imaginings. He stirred, and found himself in Charlotte's warm embrace.

As Draco shifted in her arms, Charlotte's heart leapt, and she released him, wiping her eyes, "Draco? Oh, thank heavens, you scared me."

He looked up at her and said, "Charlotte, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to cast that curse at you back there, I just—"

"Hush, it doesn't matter," she quieted him, and helped him stand up, "How are you feeling?"

He tried to brush himself off, failing miserably at straightening his messy hair, but he still was a little fuzzy, and all around disheveled, "I don't really know. At least I'm conscious. What are you doing here?"

"On my search for wounded people, I heard something, and followed the sound. You look so upset, Draco. Are you okay?"

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you. I've been though so much, especially tonight, and I feel so useless and ashamed, and…" tears threatened to fall once again, and he hated them. Taking her into his arms, more to comfort himself than anything, he continued, "I nearly died twice tonight, Charlotte. And all the violence caused by my master…" Draco buried his face in her hair, inhaling her familiar perfume, mixed with the scents of smoke and dust.

She replied softly, "I know, dear. I'm frightened, too."

Draco pulled back, having a hard time believing her fear, as she was so composed. In contrast, Draco himself had nearly fallen apart multiple times in the last few minutes. Remembering suddenly that Charlotte was Muggle-Born, he released her, and was about to comfort her, when a sharp ringing pierced their ears and Charlotte's hands shot to her head, pain shooting through her. Draco simply shut his eyes and clenched his fists, awaiting his master's message.

* * *

The communication came to an end, the menacing voice demanding Harry Potter turn himself in, or else face further onslaught fading from the recesses of his mind. Draco relaxed, rubbing his temples absently, "Ugh, I really don't like when he does that." Glancing over at his girlfriend, whose breathing was labored, he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, "Charlotte?"

"I'm fine. But that was almost worse than the first time he did it this evening. Aren't you in pain?"

Draco shrugged, "Not really, he does this so often to us, I guess I'm used to it. Would you like to sit down?" She shook her head, but allowed him to help her onto a chair. He added, "At least now the fighting will stop, for at least a while."

Charlotte nodded, and asked sincerely, "Why does he want Harry Potter so badly anyway?"

Draco looked down, conflicted, "It's a long story. Basically Potter is out to destroy the Dark Lord, every last bit of him, and this battle was supposed to convince him to stop." Charlotte had nothing to say in response, as she felt drained as well, and so left him to his thoughts.

Draco paced the small room, conflicted. He wanted all of this carnage to stop, but he felt guilty that Harry Potter had to die for it. That stupid boy was a better person than he'd given him credit for, and Draco respected him. Knowing this whole thing was wrong, and not wanting to be the cause of his demise, Draco hadn't revealed Harry Potter's identity at his home over Easter Holiday, even though it cost his family their freedom. And now, he owed Potter (and his friends) his life—twice, so he felt even worse for hating him for so long, and about the fact that Potter was very possibly going to die.

"Come on, love," Charlotte stood, interrupting his thoughts, "let's go. The Great Hall has been converted into a hospital. You look like you could use something to calm your nerves." He nodded, following her.

In the Great Hall, Draco's mouth nearly fell open in shock, but a warning glance from Charlotte sobered him up. Hundreds of cots and blankets were laid out on the floor, many housing injured wizards and witches, house elves, and more. Many of them, to Draco's horror, held the sheet-covered bodies of those pronounced dead. He drifted closer to Charlotte as they walked, desperately wanting to take her hand. They found an empty bench, sat down, and each got some water. They sat in silence, taking in the scene before them. Draco felt out of place in the crowded hall, like a wolf among a flock of innocent sheep.

"I was going to be the one to do it, you know," Draco broke the silence, and when Charlotte looked at him imploringly, he continued, "Hand him over to You-Know-Who. But that was before Goyle's Fiendfyre went out of control and I nearly died in the Room of Requirement. And Potter… he saved me. I was going to turn him in, and he saved _me_! Twice!" Draco was really experiencing discord, questioning where his loyalties truly lay. He added, "Do you… do you think I should defect from the…" he glanced around before muttering, "…Death Eaters?"

Charlotte replied, "It's up to you, love. Just know that whatever happens, and whatever you choose, I'm here for you." She smiled, her support unflinching. He gazed thoughtfully into her chocolate brown eyes. Something caught her attention, and he could nearly see her left ear twitch in the direction of the sound. She stood, and he shifted his gaze to his hands.

"I'll be right back, someone's calling me. But you just relax, I'll only be a minute." she whispered, and Draco felt her lightly kiss his left cheekbone. He leaned into her touch, slowly closing his eyes as warmth spread though his body. He watched her go, resuming his contemplation.

* * *

Suddenly, Draco knew what he was going to do, what he _had_ to do before it was too late. He stood, took a deep breath, and walked purposefully over to Charlotte, talking to her friends, one of them wounded. Sympathy pulsed through him, but he had other things on his mind. Clearing his throat, he inquired, "Excuse me, but are you… are you busy at the moment, Miss LaRocque? There is something I need to, uh, discuss with you."

Ignoring her friends' quizzical gazes, she stood and followed Draco out of the Great Hall, who closed the doors behind them. "What is it you wanted to talk about?" she spoke gently.

"I just…" he began, then took her hand, leading her to somewhere more private.

"Is something the matter?" Charlotte implored, noticing how nervous he was.

"No, everything's fine, I simply wanted to talk with you alone."

"Sure, what's on your mind?" she stroked his hand gently, in an effort to calm him, when in fact it made his heart rate skyrocket and his thoughts get more jumbled.

"Well, when it comes down to it, I'll decide what path to take, whether I remain a Death Eater or not. But my top priority will always be to keep you safe, no matter where I am."

"Oh, don't worry about me! I've learned to defend myself, much thanks to you." She nearly crowed.

He smiled, proud, but went on, taking her other hand in his as he spoke more seriously, "I always worry about you, especially after everything we've been through. I'm constantly reminded of the danger that I put you in by having you by my side." He looked thoughtfully at their clasped hands, how nicely they fit together.

She suddenly got defensive; pulling her hands out of his, Charlotte frowned, "Hold on. You don't… regret having me by your side, do you?"

Realizing that was probably not the most tactful phrasing, he put his hands up in surrender, "Of course not! I've never been happier than when you were there with me, Charlotte. I'd probably be lost without you. What I'm trying to say is… you are very important to me, and being so close to death tonight has really put things into perspective for me."

Charlotte nodded, listening carefully, trying to figure out his intent.

"So, that brings me to why I asked to talk to you privately." Draco looked Charlotte over for the hundredth time that night, trying to memorize every detail. Even though her hair was falling out of its binder, her face was smudged with dirt, and her clothes dirty and torn in some places, she was still the most beautiful girl he'd ever known. Resolute, he cleared his throat, "Charlotte, I… I don't know how to say this, but, I love you… and seeing you here, tonight, safe and sound after so much, I wish I could… I don't think I could live without you by my side. Would you…"

Draco was interrupted by a solemn disturbance, as people began to file silently out of the Great Hall, an ominous atmosphere about them. Draco and Charlotte exchanged glances, Draco's face clouding as he realized what might be going on.

He began to follow the crowd, but Charlotte stopped him, leaning in and whispering, "No matter what happens, Draco, I love you, too. I always will!" And Draco pulled her close, kissing her fiercely, trying to make tangible his deep feelings for her. She kissed him back, her eyes widening at his fervor, but she relaxed into it as she felt the urgency and emotion behind it.

He pulled back and said, almost as quietly, "If after all this is over we are separated, I will find you, Charlotte. I promise." She nodded, and Draco flashed her a sad smile. They went to join the group, Draco reluctantly releasing Charlotte's hand. The solemn crowd proceeded to the front courtyard of the school, wounded, in the literal and metaphysical senses, and fearful of what they would face outside.  
~


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47**

A series of anguished cries filled the air as the crowd filed out to the courtyard. It was Professor McGonagall, Ron, Hermione, and the youngest Weasley, the only girl, crying out in despair as Harry Potter lay limply in the half-giant Hagrid's arms. Draco instantly felt remorse at the fact that he was a part of what caused their pain. Other voices rose up, calling out abuse at the Death Eaters that stood opposite them in large, albeit diminished, ranks. Draco kept silent, trying to ignore the insults. He noticed that Charlotte, too, was quiet, but whether it was out of fear or respect, he couldn't tell.

"Silence!" Voldemort cried, quieting the crowd of fighters for Hogwarts. "Harry Potter is dead! And now is the time to put your faith and loyalty in me. Come forward and join our ranks, or die."

A few moments of resilient silence were broken when a voice called feebly, "Draco!" The boy caught his father's eye, the source of the pleading voice, and didn't respond to it. After another attempt to call him over, Lucius faltered.

Draco's lip quivered as he wavered, unsure what to do. He swallowed and glanced about, catching a glimpse of Charlotte's fearful face at seeing the Dark Lord. Draco's loyalties were torn, and he had to make a decision that would secure his safety, so he could live to see another day, and to keep Charlotte safe, too.

"Draco…" Narcissa spoke, and Draco's focus went to his mother and father as she finished, a gentle hand outstretched to him, "…come."

Glancing timidly at those around him, he made a decision. Despite his desire to stay with his fellow students (and thus with Charlotte), he held back tears and walked cautiously towards his parents, resigned.

"Ah, well done, Draco. Well done," Voldemort spoke in his haunting, sinister voice, and Draco did all he could to mask his surprise when the Dark Lord wrapped him in an awkward embrace. It took all of his discipline not to shudder or shy away, and he felt disgusted at Voldemort and himself.

Upon reaching his parents, Lucius touched Draco's arm, an attempt at being doting, and his mother put an arm on her son's back, guiding him back to the group, "You made the right choice, son." Draco didn't respond, afraid to let his façade fall.

Neville Longbottom stepped forward, made a speech, and Draco only half listened, wondering if he had really made the right decision. When a collective gasp and outcry came from the opposing group, Draco looked up, only to see all Hell break loose. Neville was brandishing Godric Gryfindor's sword and lunging for Nagini, while Harry Potter was nowhere to be found. Spells and jinxes were erupting out of nowhere from all around, striking Death Eaters down left and right. House elves spilled from the school to help their comrades, and giants, centaurs, and more were erupting from the Forbidden Forest, trampling Voldemort's army as they entered the fight. Their newfound fervor was fed by the fact that Harry Potter was actually alive and well, and the doubting of the almighty power of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, who failed at killing Potter.

Death Eaters, aware that they were part of a losing battle, began escaping in any manner or form they could think of (that is, if they weren't being jinxed). The next thing Draco knew, his mother was leading him away from the battle, pulling him by the hand. He saw his father, once frozen in fear, finally start to follow them. As they left, Draco heard his aunt Bellatrix call, "Lucius, come back! Come back and fight! All of you! Cowards!"

At that, Narcissa sped up in her purposeful walk away from the battle, and Lucius, trailing after them, called frantically for them to slow down. Once they were safely out of range, they took a moment to catch their breath.

"What do we do now? We're refugees!" Lucius muttered anxiously.

"We'll go to our summer cottage. We never told the Dark Lord about it, we should be safe from him and the other Death Eaters. Except for Bellatrix, which could be problematic."

"Of course! You are brilliant, my dear. I doubt Bellatrix will survive that bloodbath —sorry as I am to see your sister go— so she shouldn't be any trouble. Draco, what is it?" Lucius asked of his son, who was looking wistfully back at the school in the early morning light.

"I…" he was hesitant to tell his parents about Charlotte, but figured, as since they had just defected from the Death Eaters, Draco replied, "A friend of mine might still be back there, I'm not sure if she made it out safely."

"I don't think it's wise to find your friend right now, they could be dead or in flight. A Death Eater?"

"No, she's a student at Hogwarts, on the other side of the conflict."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, "_She_? Whatever are you talking about, son?"

Draco paused, and finally said, "Nobody. Just… never mind. Let's get out of here."

"Draco, you can tell me. Who is this you're talking about?"

Narcissa, recognizing that Draco didn't want to elaborate because it was a private matter, stopped the interrogation. "Not now, Lucius. Right now we need to leave. Draco," she offered her hand to her son, who took it, and she turned to her husband and spoke more firmly, "_Lucius_." Reluctantly acquiescing, he took her other hand. Draco took one last longing look at the castle and the battle that was still raging within it, and the three of them Disapparated together.

* * *

The battle won and the Lord Voldemort vanquished, everyone pitched in to help the wounded, and do some preliminary cleanup, Charlotte included. No one was really celebrating, and more people looked relieved and emotionally spent than actually triumphant. She tried to keep her feelings in check, though she worried very much for Draco: did he make it out of that chaos alive? Was he wounded, or worse? She refused to think about the alternative, and kept busy so she didn't have time to let her mind wander.

After everything was somewhat settled, and the Great Hall restored, she noticed how everyone was not sitting segregated by house, but in a big jumble, students, teachers, ghosts, parents, aurors, house-elves, and centaurs sitting together, with a giant peering into a broken window to add to the odd picture. She sat at an open spot and let her head fall into her hands, sighing audibly, and the witch who sat on one side of her put a comforting arm on her shoulder. Looking up, Charlotte noticed that it was Madam Pomfrey, and she smiled sympathetically.

Professor McGonagall, surprisingly composed, stood before the professors' table as she called in a gentle, commanding voice, "Excuse me, if I could have your attention for a moment." The noise in the room wasn't very loud to begin with, but it quieted as everyone turned to face her. "In light of the circumstances of last night's…" she cleared her throat, struggling with her emotions as well, "We have all suffered much loss this past evening, and during this entire ordeal. It would appear that returning to school as before is not feasible at this time, and so we will mark this as end of the school year. Within the week, we will be closing Hogwarts for the summer, when repairs of the school grounds will commence."

There was a muted commotion, some of pleasure, and some of disappointment. Professor McGonagall went on to discuss how final exams would work, and how seventh years would still be able to graduate, though it wouldn't be as festive as other years. Once her speech was over, many left to their homes and dormitories, but Charlotte went outside. She transfigured and galloped into the Forbidden Forest, hoping that a run would get her mind off her worries.

* * *

The three Malfoys milled about in the little cottage, unsure what to do with themselves. The so-called head of the family was pacing, worried that they'd been tracked, while his wife prepared something of a meal, waving a wand that was recently returned to her by her son. The boy stood at the parlor window, staring out at the sunny countryside, daydreaming about a certain someone, hoping she was safe.

Glancing at his son, whose mind was clearly miles away, Lucius said, "Draco, what was it you were muttering about before we left? Some girl?"

Draco continued to stare out the window, not replying.

"Son, you must respect your father, answer me! Who is this girl?" he kept on, approaching the boy who was nearly his height, grabbing his shoulder.

Draco shot him a poisonous look, then glanced at his father's hand, which was quickly removed.

"Dear, you can't force this subject. If Draco doesn't want to talk about it, that's fine." Narcissa spoke calmly, despite her interest in what her son had to say.

Finally replying, Draco said, "She is not just _some girl_, all right? She's… she is the reason that I was not entirely lost in my devotion to that dreadful _Voldemort_," his parents gasped at his son's boldness, "…the reason I'm still me, that I'm not a complete wreck. She means the world to me, and I…" His voice faltered as the magnitude of what he intended to do fell upon him, but the butterflies in his stomach were undeniable.

"You what, Draco?" his mother gently pressed on.

Draco cleared his throat, and turned to face his parents as he finished, "I intend to marry her."

His parents were shocked, silent for a few moments, until his father burst out, "You _what_?" and his mother added, "You can't be serious, Draco!"

"I am serious."

"You're mad! Have you thought this through, son?"

"Of course I have. We're happy together, and I don't want to lose that. I don't want to lose her."

"Draco, we just don't want you jumping into something you aren't prepared for." Naricissa tried to reason with him.

"Not prepared for? I know I can provide for her, and I will do my utmost to make her comfortable and happy in whatever life we lead. Sure, it will probably be difficult, but it will be worth it if we're together."

"How do you know if she's the right match for you? How long have you even known this girl?"

"Two years, Father. And after all we've been through together, and how happy we are to have each other, I don't think I could find anyone else better, who would so readily love and accept me for who and what I am."

"How much does she know about you, son? Did you tell her anything about Death Eaters or the Dark Lord?"

Draco's silence and wavering gaze answered their question.

"Draco, how could you put an innocent girl in such danger?"

Ignoring how justified his mother's inquiry was, he retorted, "She's tougher than you think, especially for a Mud…" he trailed off, almost revealing her biggest secret to them. They frowned, but Draco continued, "…especially for a witch her age. You should've seen her up against some of the Death Eaters last night, she can hold her own."

"She attacked Death Eaters? How can you have feelings for someone so cruel to the group you once were a part of?" Lucius acted hurt, but there was conflict in his tone. "Have you no sense of loyalty?"

"You can't be serious, Father! We basically just defected, and you're going on about loyalty? Maybe I wanted to be a Death Eater at first, but now I hate it. I simply felt it was my duty to join, and thought that it would please you." Draco looked down, ashamed to admit this.

Lucius and his wife were taken aback. They had joined the Dark Lord years ago because they agreed with his cause, and had believed that Draco shared that sentiment.

"I don't want to be a Death Eater. I hated it, and Charlotte helped me realize how I really feel about everything. I didn't want to disappoint you, but in doing so I was always afraid to tell you what I really thought," Draco said sheepishly.

His parents exchanged a look, and Narcissa was the first to speak, "So, this girl of yours, what's her name? How did you two meet?"

Looking between his parents, and seeing how sorry they looked, decided to tell them, "Charlotte LaRocque. I took her to the last Holiday Ball, and I've been spending quite a bit of time with her, as she's been my tutor for the last two years."

"Your tutor? I had no idea you needed help with your schoolwork, Draco, I…" Lucius tried to comfort him, but Draco shrugged him off.

"Because I never told you. Mum saw my atrocious O.W.L. scores, and when I was asked to kill Dumbledore, my grades suffered with all the pressure. If I'd never met Char—Miss LaRocque, I might have flunked out of Hogwarts." He kept going, not caring if his parents heard, "I was lost in more ways than one, until Charlotte found me."

"Sounds like she means a lot to you," Narcissa smiled as he blushed slightly, "What's she like?"

Draco brightened, and said, "She's very talented at magic, and has beautiful brown hair and shining brown eyes. She's charming, kind, and considerate, and the smartest witch I know."

"Might we be able to meet her?" Lucius asked.

"Sure," he said with a surprised expression, "and I think Charlotte would like that as well. I do hope she's all right, what with the battle last night and everything." He looked towards the window again, troubled. Draco thought for a moment, and then said, "I need to go for a walk. I'll be back by nightfall."

Afraid to say the wrong thing, they consented without hesitation. Once he was safely out of sight, he Disapparated, the next moment standing just outside the school grounds, on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Afraid of what his peers would say, after seeing him essentially desert his fellow students to be on the side of the Dark Lord, he remained in the shadows, unsure where to start searching for Charlotte. As he paced, he heard a loud crashing from behind him in the forest. His heart pounded with the dread that it might be a centaur that recognized him from the battle. He shut his eyes tightly, awaiting the sting of an arrow or to be trampled like the Death Eater trash everyone probably believed him to be.  
~


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48**

Draco, expecting some sort of pain from the monster that he assumed was charging him from behind, wished very much that he'd taken his mother's wand with him. He turned slowly around, and a pair of familiar soft brown eyes met his, her russet brown fur and white star on her forehead standing out in the shadows. The horse blew hot air in his face with a familiar, yet disheartened whinny. Draco was flooded with such relief that he wrapped his arms around her equine neck without a second thought. As he held her, she transfigured, her breath hitching slightly. When Draco leaned back to meet her now human eyes, he saw that they were filled with tears. "Charlotte, what is it? What's wrong?"

"I didn't know what happened to you. I saw so many Death Eaters fall, and get trampled by the giants and centaurs, and I… I was afraid you were…" her breath hitched again as she couldn't bear to finish her sentence. She buried her face in his chest, holding him tightly to reassure herself that he was really there.

Draco held her in return, stroking her back gently, "And I feared the worst had happened to you. But here we are, safe and sound." He released her and wiped her tears away with his thumb. "How did it all end? My parents and I ran for our lives, abandoning our fellow Death Eaters, the cowards that we are," he looked down, ashamed.

"If that kept you alive, I wouldn't call it cowardice," she said with a small smile. She described the happenings of the end of the Battle of Hogwarts, letting him know that his aunt Bellatrix Lestrange was dead thanks to Mrs. Weasely (Draco had to laugh at that), and how Harry Potter finally defeated the Dark Lord. She also told him how the end of the year would go, and how they could still graduate.

Draco was glad, for as much as he liked Hogwarts, he needed to get away from it. He was also a bit worried, as he asked, "How am I to take final exams and graduate? Everyone probably thinks I'm a coward who deserted his fellow students when they needed him. They'll ostracize me, the professors will most likely flunk me, and—"

"They will not. When they find out about the tremendous amount of pressure you were under, and all you've been through, they'll welcome you back because you are much better than the rest of those Death Eaters, and worthy of forgiveness. Remember what I told you in the Shrieking Shack all those months ago: everyone deserves a second chance, and if they don't grant you one, they aren't worth your time." Charlotte spoke resolutely, and it gave Draco hope that she had such faith on him. "Come with me."

She took him by the hand, and he came quietly, her confidence giving him some strength. They found Professor McGonagall first, sitting with other professors in the Great Hall. As she was serving as temporary headmaster, she was most helpful. Draco was met with a guarded greeting, but upon hearing his honest apology and explanation, and Charlotte's avid support of his story, the headmistress understood. She knew Charlotte LaRocque was a reliable witch, and if she trusted Malfoy's story, then it must be at least somewhat valid.

"If what you say is true, Mister Malfoy, then I cannot deny you the opportunity to finish your seventh year. Report to your final N.E.W.T. exams, which begin the day after tomorrow, and make sure that you do so _on time_." The witch said the last part pointedly, as he often made a habit of being late to her classes throughout the years.

"Of course, Professor. Thank you," Draco said gratefully, and the two of them left the Great Hall. McGonagall watched them go, surprised as she noticed their fingers intertwining as they shut the doors behind them.

"I'll have to tell my parents I have to come back for the week. And about everything that happened after we left." Draco said as they wandered the corridors, in search of their study.

They found their study, not very damaged by the battle. Charlotte opened the windows and took a deep breath of fresh air, "Indeed you will. Where are you staying now, anyway?"

"A cottage of ours, known only to the Malfoys, of which there are probably only the three of us left." Suddenly, something occurred to Draco, "Hey, Charlotte? I accidentally… um, well… my parents found out about you."

"They did? Were they upset?" Concern crossed her face, although she was relieved that their relationship was out in the open.

"A little, but they understand, I think. They want to meet you, actually."

"Your parents want to meet _me_?" she said, looking herself over, "Oh, but I'm a mess! I haven't slept in two days, and my hair is filled with pixie knots and gnarls." She stood before a window, looking out at the ruined Quidditch field.

"Everyone's a mess, Charlotte. You look fine, except for these burrs in your hair. Where in the world did they come from?" He started trying to remove them, but she pushed his hand away with a laugh. He continued, "Don't worry, we'll plan your meeting with them soon. Probably… sometime after we graduate, so there's nothing school-related to worry about. Plus, it'll give them time to get used to the idea of my having a girlfriend." Draco wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She leaned her head on his shoulder.

They stood in silence for a few minutes, basking in one another's company.

"I should probably get back, Mother and Father are probably wondering where I'm off to. I failed to mention I was going to Hogwarts," he smirked.

"You sneaky, misbehaving little boy!" she scolded him playfully.

He shrugged, "It's a terrible problem, I know: sneaking off, searching for my girlfriend, and straightening out my schooling. You're not… mad at me for going back to the Death Eaters earlier today, are you?" He asked tentatively, fearing her response.

Charlotte went to the now-cracked mirror she'd conjured all those weeks ago, carefully removing burrs from her hair. "No, I'm not. I told you I would support you in whatever you chose. And you ended up safe and sound, which is all that really matters," she replied sincerely, turning back to him.

He sighed, "What did I do to deserve you?" His lips met hers gently at first, but when she bit his lip lightly, he kissed her harder, running his hands up and down her body, and into her hair. When he pulled back, they were both out of breath. He stared at her adoringly and said, "I love you, Charlotte."

"I love you, too." She smiled back, her eyes sparkling.

"I will be back before the day is out, dear. Simply have to let my parents know what's going on, and then I will not leave your side." He paused, and added awkwardly, "Unless for a class, or an exam, or if I have to go to my dormitory."

She rolled her eyes, "Of course, Draco. Now go on! Before you get into real trouble with your Mum and Dad! I'll be right here when you get back, studying for exams." And with a _crack_, he was gone.

* * *

The sky was a brilliant, clear blue on the day of graduation, quite a contrast from the dreary last few days that students were taking final exams. It was a subdued ceremony, in light of recent events, also serving as a memorial service. Everyone wore their best robes, and each seventh-year student received their recognition for completing their formal magic education. Once again, everyone sat in a mixed up fashion, creating a strange mosaic of all house colors to show how Hogwarts had indeed united to overcome Voldemort's oppression and cruelty.

At the end of the ceremony, the seventh years were guided to the boats in which they had come to the school in their first year as students. The seventh years rode the boats back out of Hogwarts one final time, a sort of poetic way to bid them goodbye. They then took carriages that brought them to the train station, and many people gave a startled gasp, muttering to one another in confusion.

Charlotte nudged Draco, who had shared a boat with her and her friends, motioning to the front of the carriages, "Are those what have been pulling the carriages all these years? I've never seen them before, why am I able to now?"

He sighed, "Thestrals: only to visible to people who have witnessed and accepted death. Not much to look at, but…"

Instead of sounding disgusted, she simply said, "They're beautiful."

Draco rolled his eyes, unsurprised at her assertion. Seeing that she itched to go over and touch one, he took her gently by the arm, "Come on, we have to be getting on. I promise we'll see one again, and then you can poke and prod it all you want."

Disappointed, she complied, and they rode the Hogwarts Express back to the station. Finally, the train arrived at King's Cross Station, and everyone began to go their separate ways. Among all of the commotion, Draco noticed that Charlotte appeared very close to tears.

Worried, he guided her to a bench outside the station. After placing their belongings out of the way, he sat beside her and inquired as to what was bothering her.

She took a ragged breath and said, "I'm… I'm not going to be able to see my friends again."

"Sure you will!" he tried to reassure her, "You'll always be able to write letters by owl, use the Floo Network, and what's the point of being able to Apparate if you don't use it to visit them?"

She nodded, but didn't seem reassured.

"Is... something else the matter, dear?" he pressed on, sensing an underlying worry.

"It's just… what will happen now with _us_? I mean, school is over, now what? You probably don't have much need of a tutor anymore, and you'll probably have some kind of job to do as a Death Eater that will… Oh, I don't know. I just… I'm afraid that you won't…" She looked at her hands, fidgeting.

Draco was hurt that she was so blind to how much she meant to him, and said resolutely, "Charlotte LaRocque, you listen to me. For one thing, I'm not a Death Eater anymore." Her expression brightened, and he continued, "That's right, my parents and I officially defected after the Battle of Hogwarts. And concerning whether I need my tutor: I will always need a guiding, and correcting, voice to steer me in the right direction. And you're so much more to me than that, Charlotte."

She glanced down at her hands again, sniffling, "But what if our career paths take us in totally different directions, and we don't have time for one another anymore?"

He took her chin in his hand and gently lifted it so she faced him, "No matter what happens with our lives, I will _always_ have time for you, Charlotte." He gently wiped the tears from her face and said, "As for where we go from here as a couple, well…" He mentally took stock of what he needed to do, and finished with a smile, "Right now I need to go home, change clothes, drop all of this rubbish off, and touch base with my parents briefly. Tell them about graduation and all that boring stuff. And you go home and do the same. Meet me in two hours in the woods near your house and we can talk more. Okay?"

Charlotte nodded, flashing him a good-natured smile, and Draco replied enthusiastically, "Until then, my love!" He kissed her on the cheek, and, grabbing his luggage, Disapparated with a loud _crack_, Charlotte following suit, wondering what exactly Draco had in mind.

* * *

Two hours later, Draco stood at the beginning of the forest trail she had taken him on quite a few times in the last year and a half, his heart pounding. He desperately hoped that this would go over as well as he planned. When he heard approaching footsteps, he took a few calming breaths, and straightened his clothes. He leaned against a tree, and tried to look calm and collected.

"Hello there, Draco," she said pleasantly.

Draco nearly lost his composure when he saw her. She wore a bright blue spring dress that was very flattering to her figure, skirt going to a little above her knees and flowing slightly as she walked. She had redone her dark auburn hair so that it was up in a hair clip and off of her neck, and the little amount of makeup she had applied really accented her eyes and pretty features.

"Are you… are you doing all right there, Draco dear?" She said, frowning a little. "You look a little dazed. You look very nice, by the way."

He cleared his throat and said, "Yeah, I'm fine. Shall we go for a walk, Charlotte? You look quite lovely yourself," He offered his hand, which she took readily and with a smile.

They walked to Charlotte's favorite bridge, chatting pleasantly as they went, and when she saw the field was filled with blooming flowers, she released his hand and was overcome with the beauty of it all. Draco watched her, taking pleasure in how happy she was about the wildflowers, and how beautiful she was.

"May I, um, speak to you for a moment, Charlotte?" he said, trying to keep his racing heart under control.

"Of course," she returned to him, intertwining their fingers.

"Well, I just wanted to alleviate your concerns about the future." Draco took a deep breath, and began his speech. "Two years ago, when I met you, I didn't know what to think of you. I wasn't the nicest guy in the world, but you put up with all of the mean things I said, and my haughty manner. You took it all in stride and with a smile. And you helped me with the Vanishing Cabinet and everything I went through without questioning my motives. No one I'd ever met had treated me so nicely, and tried so hard to be there for me."

He paused, collecting his thoughts, "My feelings for you started to change, and after the night of the Holiday Ball, I found out that you felt something for me, too. I know it hasn't been the most pleasant couple of years for either of us, but, I've never been happier knowing that I have you." He took a deep breath, and said, "I owe you so much, and I would probably be lost without you. I still have no idea what you saw in me that was worth loving, but whatever it is, I'm so glad you chose me." He took her hands in his, gaining confidence, "I know you're worried about the future, and so am I. It probably will be difficult sometimes, and there will be many challenges. But I know that I can face anything with you."

Charlotte's pulse was racing, and she eagerly listened, hoping that her heart wouldn't burst in anticipation.

It was then that Draco released her hands, went down on one knee, and produced a small velvet box from his pocket. "I love you more than anything in the world, and I want you to be mine forever. Charlotte Estelle LaRocque, will you marry me?" He opened the little box, revealing an elegant, sparkling diamond ring.


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49**

Charlotte stared at the ring in Draco's hand, speechless. Draco started to look downhearted, fearing that she was going to reject him, but she nodded, replying with a big smile, "Yes, yes, of course I will!"

He slid the ring onto the third finger of her left hand. He stood, and met her gaze. She'd never seen Draco so happy, and it made her heart soar to see the elation in his silver eyes.

Unable to express his joy in words, he embraced her. "Thank you," he whispered, and she held him tighter in response. He released her and wiped his eyes, trying to hide the happy tears that coursed down his face.

"What is it, Draco?" she asked, concerned.

"Nothing, I'm just… very pleased you said yes." He took a deep breath, clearing his throat. He added, the familiar haughty tone back in his voice, "But my father had better not hear about this crying nonsense!"

Charlotte laughed at his mock arrogance, "Of course not! But I think he'd understand if he knew they were tears of joy."

He kissed her briefly, and they embraced once again, thrilled and hopeful for the future.

* * *

As the big front doors of Malfoy Manor closed behind them and they walked back toward the gate, Draco sighed, "I apologize for my parents, Charlotte, they…"

"That's all right, I'm used to it. And if I have to put up with it in order to get along with them, I'll be fine. I promise," she smiled reassuringly.

He nodded, but it pained him to see the hurt she was trying so hard to hide. All things considered, for a first meeting between his parents and fiancée, it had gone reasonably well. Narcissa remembered Charlotte from the Holiday Ball, and Lucius was impressed with her magical abilities. Though his parents were wary of her and of their hidden relationship, and despite the biting and cruel remarks his father made concerning Muggles and their magical spawn, the visit went quite well. Draco noticed how uncomfortable Lucius' comments were making Charlotte, and excused her, stating that she had to get back to her home for lunch with her family.

Lost in his thoughts, Draco realized that Charlotte was talking to him, and said absently, "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

She rolled her eyes, but repeated, "I'm afraid that your parents don't approve of me."

"Why wouldn't they? You're beautiful, smart, talented at magic, and—"

"And Muggle-Born. How will they react when they find out? The things your father was saying… it made me almost… afraid of him."

Draco looked back at Malfoy Manor, thoughtful. Draco had grown tolerant of Mudbloods and the like over the last couple of years, but his parents were far from it, and more stuck in their ways. He was irked by their insensitivity, but he reminded himself that not long ago he too was prejudiced in the same way.

He tried to reassure her, "Father's all talk, he's not that much of a man of action." She seemed unconvinced, so he added, "Remember when I thought all Muggle-Borns were untrustworthy and horrid? You showed me how wrong I was. No matter what they think or say, I'll make Mother and Father understand how important you are to me, and how wonderful you are. You deserve to be treated better than some common girl, after all, you're going to be a Malfoy!" Draco kissed Charlotte demurely, promising to meet her later. As she Disapparated, Draco braced himself for the surely impending confrontation.

Upon his return to the Manor, both of Draco's parents conveyed their initial approval, which brought Draco some relief. But it was tentative, as he was about to reveal something that could make this whole thing blow up in his face.

"I'm very glad to hear that," he said, trying to phrase it gently, "By the way, I forgot to mention something to you earlier, but I felt like it would have colored your impression of her. I wanted to wait until after you had spent time with her before I told you. Charlotte LaRocque, my fiancée, is Muggle-Born."

Lucius and Narcissa were struck into a stunned silence, staring at their son, not quite sure what to say.

"You're lying, Draco," Lucius was the first to speak, "You must be." When Draco failed to reassure him, Lucius started to get angry, "First, you tell us that you've been seeing a girl without our knowledge, and that you intend to wed her. Then you have the nerve to bring her into this house, and—"

"_You_ asked to meet her!" Draco interrupted.

Lucius kept on, unabashed, "—and you take advantage of our hospitality, only to reveal that our home has been fouled by a Mudblood, and you've been tricked into marrying someone with dirty blood?"

"What? She did not trick me, and Charlotte does _not_ have dirty blood, Father!" He was fighting angry tears, as this is what he feared would happen.

"Quiet, insolent boy! You need to learn where your loyalties lie."

"Lucius," his wife spoke up, "Calm down."

"What? I'm just illuminating him about the error of his ways."

"Listen to your son. You'll only drive him away of you keep scolding him like a child. If you don't want to lose him, you'd better hear him out," she said resolutely. Taken aback by his wife's sharp tone, Lucius remained silent, waiting with crossed arms for Draco's explanation.

Draco sat down in an armchair, taking a deep breath. He briefly told them how he and Charlotte met, became tentative friends, learned to look past their differences and to love someone they probably shouldn't. He told them some of the things they'd been through together, and that he had never been so happy. "Just give her a chance. I know you'll learn that she is a remarkable witch worthy of my love, and your acceptance."

He let that all sink in, and stood, adding, "I know that you'd like me to marry some girl from a wealthy, pureblooded Wizarding family, but that's not going to happen. I love Charlotte, and we are getting married. If you have a problem with that, then…" he hesitated, afraid of the consequences of his words, but said anyway, "…then we can have our own life, and it doesn't have to include you." He stormed out of the room, fighting back fearful tears.

Dismayed at Draco's confession and outburst, Lucius and Narcissa realized that if they weren't careful, they would lose their only son. After a few tense days in Malfoy Manor, they apologized to Draco. He took their contrition warily, but was pleased that they were willing to give Charlotte another chance. They even requested another meeting, for afternoon tea the following week.

Slowly but surely, the Malfoys warmed up to Charlotte, finding her pleasant and friendly manner hard to resist. Narcissa was quicker to admit this, and Lucius, too proud to acknowledge such a thing, remained distant for longer. But Draco knew that, in time, his parents would grow to accept Charlotte, at least as a daughter-in-law.

* * *

He lifted her into his arms, carrying her up the steps and across the enormous threshold. As he set her down inside, she said, still laughing, "You really didn't have to do that."

"Of course I did. Haven't you heard the old superstition?"

"I thought that was just with Muggles."

"It had to start somewhere, didn't it?" he hung their traveling cloaks on a hook, and added, "Cursed thresholds are especially risky for new brides. Not that anyone would dare curse Malfoy Manor, but you never know if…"

She silenced him with a light kiss on the cheek.

He laughed timidly, "I'm babbling again, I'm sorry. I'm rather nervous."

"Me too," she said, taking his hand.

"Really?"

She nodded, "I've never been married before either, Draco. But I simply can't tell you how elated I am that it's official!" She looked at the shimmering diamond ring on her left hand.

"You don't regret marrying an arrogant, narcissistic former Death Eater?" he tossed his head, haughtily crossing his arms.

She shook her head, "Not as long as you don't regret marrying a bookworm, Muggle-Born Animagus."

"Well…" he trailed off, mocking disapproval. He looked Charlotte up and down carefully, as if appraising her, and shrugged. "I think I'll manage."

Crossing her arms, she went along with it, "Is something wrong with what you see?"

"I don't think you transfigured back all the way from this morning. Is that… is that a tail? I hope that wasn't there for the ceremony…"

She spun around, exclaiming, "What?!" When she saw that he'd been joking, she let out a relieved, yet irritated breath. "Don't do that, Draco. If something like that had happened in the wedding today, I would've died!"

"I don't think that's the case. Sure, some might've laughed, but… what's a wedding without some laughter at the bride's expense? Isn't that right, Mrs. Malfoy?"

Unable to remain angry with him at the mention of her new name, Charlotte said, "Shut up and kiss me, Draco Lucius Malfoy."

"As you wish!" he smirked, and kissed her tenderly, taking in everything, every sensation and emotion, not wanting to forget that moment, and that day, looking forward to the future he couldn't wait to share with Charlotte. ~

* * *

**_Author's note_**_: Though it seems a rather nice note to end upon, there is in fact one more chapter to go after this one, dear Readers! I aim to post it very soon, and make it an even 50! I hope you have been enjoying my little spin with Draco and Charlotte, but we aren't finished yet! Stay tuned for the Epilogue... :)_


	50. Epilogue

**Author's Note: Dear Readers, I present to you the final chapter of my story, the Epilogue! I hope you enjoy it****!**

* * *

**Epilogue**

A train's dissonant whistle filled the station, steam pouring from the engine over the bustling crowd on platform 9¾. Three of these people are making this trip for the first time, one group of many. One is a tall, thin man in a dark suit coat, his pale blond hair combed back against his head. He is accompanied by his wife, she in a semi-formal green dress and blazer, dark hair brushed to perfection, and his only son, a boy of about 11, nearly a mirror image of his father at that age.

The boy hadn't said much since they had arrived on the platform, save for a polite "thank you" when a porter lifted his belongings—all labeled with his initials and the Malfoy family crest—into the baggage car. He was trying to act collected and calm, like his father, while hiding the nervous excitement and anxiety he felt. And, because he was so like his father, the boy's mother could read him like a book.

She sensed his unease and spoke gently, "How are you doing, love?"

He met her gaze, Charlotte's chocolate brown eyes searching her son's gray ones, just like Draco's. Glancing furtively at his father, the boy replied, "Fine. Just… a little nervous."

"That's all right, son. I was nervous, too, leaving home for the first time." Draco placed a calming hand on his son's shoulder.

"But what if I get put in the wrong house? What if I don't do well? What if I… get homesick?" he mumbled the last part, as he was trying to come across as grown up and ready for going off to school, and not doing a good job.

His mother assured him, "You will do just fine. And nobody gets put in the wrong house. You'll make friends, and learn so much, you'll be too busy to feel homesick! But if ever you do, you can write to us about anything. We'll write to you as well, right, Draco?" she looked imploringly at her husband, who nodded.

Noting the time on a nearby wall clock, Draco observed, "It's almost time to board, we best get you to on the train."

The three of them maneuvered through the crowds, halting near a car entrance. Draco patted his son's shoulder affectionately, and then handed him off to Charlotte, who embraced the boy and gave him some last-minute advice. Feeling eyes on him, Draco turned and caught sight of Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley staring at him with curious expressions. They were surrounded by what could only be their children. Draco flashed them a small smile and nodded curtly before turning back to his family.

The five-minute warning whistle sounded, and the last people began boarding the train. Glancing around and taking a deep breath to collect himself, Draco embraced his son and said sincerely, "Good luck, Scorpius, your mother and I love you dearly."

Scorpius returned the embrace, replying, "I love you, too, Father. I'll miss you!" With one final wave, he boarded the train.

* * *

After waving goodbye to his parents from the train door, Scorpius walked down the aisle of the passenger car, looking for an empty compartment. Upon finding one, he sat by the window, daydreaming about what was to come, apprehensive but eager to go to Hogwarts. After a few moments, he heard a knock at the open compartment door.

A boy with messy dark hair stood there, and said, uneasily, "Um, can I sit in here?" Scorpius nodded, and the boy sat on the opposite bench, waving out the window to his family.

After the train started rolling, the boy with the messy hair broke the silence between them once again, "I'm Albus Potter."

Determined to make a friend the first day of this new adventure, Scorpius held out his hand with a smile and said, "Nice to meet you, Albus. I'm Scorpius Malfoy."

Albus shook the offered hand without hesitation, returning the smile and commencing to share with the young Malfoy how excited he was to start learning all about magic and becoming powerful wizards, like both of their fathers. ~

* * *

As the Hogwarts Express rolled away, Charlotte heard a sniffle beside her. She turned to Draco, concerned, and saw her husband was blinking hard and pointedly clearing his throat.

"Are you… are you crying, Draco?" she asked gently.

"No!" he replied too quickly, unconvincingly, "Can't a father be emotional about sending his son off to Hogwarts?"

"Of course." Charlotte embraced him, "I already miss him, too. But he's not gone forever—we'll write to him, and we'll see him during holidays."

"But what if something happens, and he gets in trouble? What if he turns into a screw-up, like me?" Draco released Charlotte, starting to panic slightly.

"If anything happens, he'll learn from it and move on. But don't worry, Draco, he will be fine because you're a good father and you've taught him well. Scorpius really looks up to you, do you know that?" She intertwined their fingers.

"Does he now?"

"Yes, he does. Just the other day he said the sweetest thing to me. He asked if he could get a tattoo like yours." She said as they walked back through King's Cross Station on their way out.

Mechanically pulling his already long left sleeve down farther, Draco asked, "Why would he want that?"

She took his left wrist in her hand, causing him to look at her as she continued, "I asked him why, and he said, 'I want to be just like my dad, the most brilliant wizard in the world, and the best father, too'. It nearly melted my heart."

Draco was touched by this knowledge, as it was something he definitely didn't expect. He looked at his covered left forearm and smiled, "Scorpius is a good kid. But I doubt he'd really want a Dark Mark if he knew what it really means."

Charlotte shrugged, "You might be surprised."

"What do you mean?"

"One night, he asked me what the picture of your arm was. I told him it was a Dark Mark, and that it meant you were once a Death Eater." She said, avoiding his gaze sheepishly.

Draco pulled Charlotte off to the side of the crowds and muttered angrily, "You told Scorpius? Without my permission or my being there?"

Wrenching her arm out of his grasp, Charlotte retorted, "What was I supposed to do? Lie to him? He's a bright boy, and he'd probably have figured it out himself sooner or later. And if he found out that we were lying to him, he wouldn't trust us, would he?" She braced herself, meeting his gaze, expecting him to criticize her.

When her explanation didn't result in any further derision, she hesitantly continued, "Anyway, I told him you were a Death Eater, that you followed an evil wizard, but that you didn't like it, and got out when you were able to. Of course I didn't tell him everything, some things he isn't ready for—but what I did say didn't seem to upset him. And it was a few days later that he asked me about getting the tattoo. It's almost like he respects you more. Did you see him try to imitate your façade today?"

Draco nodded, unsuccessfully hiding an amused smile.

"He wants to be just like you, that isn't so bad, is it?"

"It is when you emulate someone who almost became an assassin."

"But you didn't, did you? That's the man Scorpius wants to be when he grows up. The one who knows what's right, who teaches his son to be a good person, and does anything in his power to keep his family, and himself, safe." She looked deep into Draco's eyes, trying to make him understand.

Draco nodded, sorry he doubted Charlotte's judgment. He studied her, admiring every visible aspect of his wife. She still looked beautiful, hardly aged at all since the day he married her. And her unwavering love for him, accompanied by a headstrong desire to show him how to be the best man he could be made him realize how incredibly lucky he was to have her.

She sighed, finishing her thought, "You can tell him more yourself when you think the time is right. But no matter when or what you tell him, Scorpius will always love you, just like I do. It seems that, despite your fears, you've become a much better father to him than Lucius was to you. He couldn't have asked for a better father, and I couldn't have asked for a better husband."

Draco couldn't meet her eyes, as he felt quite unworthy of her praise. "You are too much, Charlotte. I'm still not sure what I could have possibly done to deserve you."

She thought for a moment, and said simply, "I daresay you tripped over my book bag in Potions."

Unable to think of a comeback, Draco shook his head and smirked at her. "Oh, hush, devious filly," he said playfully, and they promptly Disapparated.

Upon returning home, something occurred to Charlotte, "That's right! I have to go check on the griffin that was brought in last night, but I'll be in before long. Is that all right, Draco?"

In response, he kissed her briefly, tenderly, and said, "Yes, Charlotte, but don't be too long. Lunch will be ready within the hour. And we have plans later, remember?"

She nodded, a little bewildered at Draco's unexpected, affectionate gesture, and went to tend to her patient.

Draco watched her go, pondering the morning's events and those of the last 19 years: they hadn't been perfect, and they had faced some trying times, but the good things far outnumbered the bad, and Draco Malfoy would have never chosen another life over the one he shared with Charlotte, and his son Scorpius, for anything in the world. ~

The End. ~~


End file.
